
- ■ N « ^ ‘ ^ ff 1 A ** c I? << , 0 M 0 ' \^ 

Y* J<? ^ ^ y\'^ '■ ^ 


IP nX'^' 
r^' ,<v 


^ V ' 


•V 


^ x> A 


^ 0 k ^0 • ^ 




r^j. ^ ^ 

o '\<^ o 

^ yj 

^ A 

' '' \ . \ 1 fl ^ ' '/- 

■' 'J 

•f 




V \ V 


^0 <^. 

‘Trr.'V^ , . . \;^ ,,Tc ’> 

clA * "^j <■’ ^ 


: .r ' 


^ ^ I.' /yO^ 

*v V« l///>>>^ <>' €■ O /5fv^ 

o o' <. ^ 




✓ 

✓* 

''" o'i^" s'” ’ " 

' ^ ,v t? '?> A 



,^^-v = 



^1 



N C 


^^v//>vl\\^dpr ^ * 

✓ V . 

^ <y <r ^ .\ \ 1 R 

^ 1^' <t ‘ 


^ 0 , k ^0 

, \ ' « « . 0 

^ O 

^ '*0 o' 

' ='^"’V\^ V«, %'*■”' 

A V y ^ 



O 

^ 3 M 0 





'1; ; 

" ' A^" '"-i., “ 




'^’ V. 


^ 0 , k <0^ 




0->* G r, '<* 


V 1 B « 



> o 



^ 0 ^ Jy ^ , 

•> v^ ^ 

0 * \X’'^ * ■ 1 

vV^W', 




V - ,. ~my^ >. , 

A 

<. r * 

^ \ ¥<* -^ 
\ ’*“ rxO o' 

x 9 ~ * ^ < 

f' c.^ o 

° 



V » O 0^ 





1 



iitlt. 

flL 


I , ^ ^ 



( 

fl 

I 


■ ■;'■ V 

• V NwMa-^ i 




-i; ' 

I'i ll3l ' Vfe 


■ '^‘'W 









RALFH RYDER OF BRENT 

y 

f 

A NOVEL 


BY 




FLORENCE WARMN^j^. ^ 

AUTHOR OF ^ 

*‘A WITCH OF THE HILLS,” “ THE HOUSE ON THE MARSH, ’^ETCo 



NEW YORK 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 

150 WORTH ST., COR MISSION PLACE 


/ 




1 / 


Copyright, 1892, 

BY 

UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY, 


\AU rights reserved^ 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


CHAPTER I. 


“ Edinburgh, Saturday. 

** My dearest, darlingest, old Nanny, 

“ I don't know what I think about it ! To begin 
with, I was so surprised, so utterly ‘ dumbfoundered 
and knocked all of a heap, ’ that I have hardly taken 
in the news in all its bearings yet. At the same time 
there is no getting away from it. You, my little 
sister, the only girl in the world worth mentioning — 
my little white lily with the laughing eyes — are really 
and truly going to get married ! Of course it had to 
come, so I pass over the fact that you are out of your 
turn, and that you always promised to wait dutifully 
until I, as elder, had gone off. Perhaps you thought 
you would have to wait too long, and, indeed, so you 
would, now I have got stranded up here among these 
snuff-dried Scotchmen. They are all born at thirty- 
five, dear, and at once begin to age rapidly. Ugh ! 
I hate them. But you, you — I’m as jealous as I can be 
of this man who is carrying you off. To begin with, 
I’m sure he is a great deal too old for you. His pho- 
tograph (which I duly return herewith) is that of a 
man of sixty. You say yourself that his hair is nearly 
white, and that he ‘looks much older than he is.’ 
Depend upon it, he is much older than he says, dear. 
Men under thirty don’t have white hair and those 
lines in their faces, unless they have been preter- 
naturally wicked — and you say that Captain Ryder, on 
the contrary, is preternaturally good. I am crazy to 


6 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


see him, and I must and shall come to the wedding 
— however quiet your future husband wants it to be, 
he must let me be there. Of course there will be a 
tussle with papa over the expense of the journey to 
Swansea. {He thinks Captain Ryder an angel of 
light, because he won’t wait for a trousseau !) But I 
don’t care. I must battle it out, and promise to go 
without a new evening dress this winter. 

“ To tell you the truth, though perhaps I ought 
not to, I met an old lady the other evening at a most 
dreary soiree given by one of papas scientific friends, 
who filled my head with all sorts of alarming fancies 
about this Captain Ryder. She is a Miss Anstruther, 
an old thing who goes about a great deal, and is 
looked upon as a very great swell. She was listen- 
ing while I told Mrs. Robertson all about it, and in- 
terrupted me, as these old ladies always seem to think 
they have a right to do. 

“ ‘Ryder!’ she squeaked out, looking at me 
through her gold-rimmed eyeglasses as if I had done 
something shocking. ‘ Did you say the name was 
Ryder, and that he had been in the army .? ’ 

“ I had to say ‘ Yes.’ 

“ ‘ Then don’t let her have anything to do with 
him, my dear,’ she said, laying down the law as if 
the whole world had nothing to do but to obey her, 

‘ for he is sure to turn out to be some relation to that 
other Captain Ryder — that dreadful man that nobody 
talks about ; ’ and she dropped her voice quite low, 

‘ Ralph Ryder of Brent. ’ 

“ I told her that your Captain Ryder’s Christian 
name was Dan, and that he was not ‘of Brent,’ but 
‘ of Madras. ’ 

“Then she got a little quieter, but she refused to tell 
us anything more about ‘that dreadful man,’ except 
to say that he was the husband of a very dear friend of 
hers, who was a good deal younger than herself. Lady 
Ellen Ryder, and that for her sake, she never talked 
about ‘ the affair. ’ 

“You may guess how curious she made us to hear 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


7 


what ‘ the affair ’ was ; but all she would tell was 
that *'it happened a long time ago.’ And the old 
lady finished by saying she should write to Lady 
Ellen and ask if Dan Ryder was a relation of hers. 

“ Of course you will laugh at all this gossip, and at 
me for thinking enough about it to repeat it. But, 
then, it would really not be pleasant to marry into a 
family that had some horrid scandal attached to it ; 
and it seems rather strange that he doesn’t talk about 
introducing you to his people first, or having any of 
them to the wedding, doesn’t it .? Anyhow, you must 
not be angry with me for writing all this ; of course 
you cannot tell everything in the letter, however 
fully you may write, and no doubt you know a great 
deal more about him than you can say except by 
word of mouth. 

‘ ‘ Oh, I do so hope and pray that he may be a good, 
kind, loving husband to you — one who will cherish and 
appreciate my old fair-headed bab}^ as she deserves ! 
Papa just took his head out of his scientific nosebag 
(this is vulgar, but expressive) to say that if Captain 
Ryder really was the grave and serious man you 
describe, your flirting ways would drive him mad. 
But I laughed him to scorn, and told him that when 
you were once married there would not be a steadier 
wife in England ; that you only flirted because you 
must be devoted to some one, and, in fact, that you 
were one of the girls (and they are the best, I think) 
who have wild oats to sow, and that you would be 
all the better for having sown them. Will you laugh 
at this, or be angry, I wonder ! 

“ It’s of no use to send love by post. If I were to 
send all I have for you, they would have to put six 
engines on the train, and then it would take all the 
postmen in England to drag it along at the other end 
of the journey. 

‘ ‘ Ever your loving old sister, 

“Meg.” 

“P.S. — Miss Anstruther has started on a voyage to 


8 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


Australia for her health, or I should have shown her 
the photograph of Mr. Ryder when it came this 
morning.” 

Nanny May read this letter through for the eighth 
time, as she sat on a stile near Bay View Farm-house ; 
and when she put it slowly back into its envelope 
and tucked it affectionately away in the bodice of her 
dress, her face was as grave as a girl’s face can be 
when she is pretty, twenty, and just ‘‘ engaged.” 

She did nol know more about her fiance than she 
had told in her letter to her sister, and, moreover, she 
could not help fancying that she had heard him men- 
tion a place called Brent. 

If she had blindly adored Dan Ryder, Nanny would 
not have thought twice of this circumstance. What 
did his family matter, so that he was himself } she 
would have said or thought. But Dan bore the 
proud distinction of being the only man who had 
ever paid her attention with whom she had not felt 
the least bit in love. And yet he was the only one 
of the long line of admirers she had had since she was 
fifteen, whom it had ever occurred to her as possible 
that she might marry. 

He was so different from all the rest : there per- 
haps lay the secret. If she had had to choose one of 
the others, it would have been so difficult to have 
come to a decision between their slightly varying de- 
grees of youth, good-looks, sheep-like devotion, and 
impecuniosity. But when this, grave-mannered man, 
with his soldierly, distinguished bearing, long, gray 
moustache, and kind brown eyes, fell in love with 
her at first sight, and let the whole neighborhood 
ring with his straightforward admiration — Nanny, in 
all the pride of the distinction it gave her, and in the 
delight of a novel sensation, refused him twice for 
form’s sake, and finally accepted him. 

And now she sat on the stile, a fair young girl 
without any history, wondering in a vague youthful 
way what the history of her future husband had 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


9 

been, and whether old Miss Anstruther's mysterious 
wicked Ralph Ryder had been in the family. Down 
in the depths of her innocent little mind she rather 
hoped that he had. A villain in the family was 
almost as interesting as a ghost ; it gave one a sort 
of distinction. But beyond all else, the suggesiioii 
roused the girl’s curiosity, and set her maiden 
thoughts running upon the future before her, so 
strangely wide to the depths of her maiden igno- 
rance. How strange it was, she thought, that lie 
knew all about her, down to the very weakness for 
almond hard-bake that she had not yet quite con- 
quered, while she knew very little more about him 
than his name and profession. 

While she sat considering this marvel, she heard 
the sound of a horse’s hoofs trotting in the lane close 
by, and she blushed and tried to look unconcerned : 
for, although the formation of the ground did not 
yet allow her to see him, she knew that the approach- 
ing horseman was her lover. 

Should she get off the stile .? Decorum said “ Yes,” 
honesty said “ No ” — and honesty won the day. He 
should understand that she was the sort of girl who 
would sit on stiles ; it would give him an insight into 
her character, she argued. So it was on the stile 
that Dan Ryder found her, in a frock of cheap brown 
stuff, a tall girl of very slender build, with a dead 
white, almost colourless, skin, scarlet lips, gray 
eyes, and fair hair. Nanny’s face was not strictly 
])retty, but it was piquant, seductive; and her slim 
figure approached the perfection of grace. 

These, on the whole, pleasing facts had been im- 
pressed upon her again and again, and the know- 
ledge of them gave her more ease of manner than is 
possessed by most English girls of twenty, and a 
great deal more than her lover had. as he tied up his 
horse to a gate in the lane and came quickly up to 
her. 

Captain Ryder was a thin, worn-looking man, with 
a sun-browned skin, gentle brown eyes, and gray 


lO 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


hair and moustache. He was not tall, though his 
upright soldierly carriage made him appear so. In 
fact, the type to which he belonged is a common 
one enough among soldiers who have seen service in 
hot countries'; and the only point of difference be- 
tween him and them was that whereas other men, as 
worn and weather-beaten as he, own to fifty and 
sixty years of age, Captain Ryder claimed to be still 
on the right side of thirty. Margaret May’s explana- 
tion seemed the only possible one — that he was 
afraid of frightening the girl by the disparity in their 
ages. 

It was easy to see that love had made Captain 
Ryder abject enough for any folly. He stood beside 
her, after a greeting which seemed constrained by 
reason of the very force of his passion, stroking his 
moustache and watching her pretty airs shyly, like 
a lad. 

She pretended to be surprised to see him so early 
in the day. As a matter of fact, she would have felt 
no astonishment if the “hands ” at the farm where she 
was staying had stumbled over him outside the thres- 
hold when they went to their work at four o’clock in 
the morning. 

“ Please forgive me if I have come too early,” he 
said humbly. “It is so difficult to keep away from 
you. I have to invent little errands and duties to 
keep my feet employed, or they would carry me off 
here, against my will, as soon as I thought you were 
up.” 

^ * But it is never your feet that bring you here, but 
your horse’s. ” 

“ My own would not be quick enough — especially 
to-day. 

“ Why ‘ especially to-day ’ ? 

“Because I have something to ask you.” The 
poor man was getting dreadfully nervous. “I — I 
have to go away — on important business, next 
week. ” 

The evident pain with which Captain Ryder made 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


II 


this announcement was all on his side. Nanny bore 
it very calmly. 

“To go away I Oh, that is a bore ! For how long ” 

‘ ‘ I — I don’t know. ” 

He was more than nervous : he was getting 
miserable. 

“You don’t know for how long ! ” echoed Nanny, 
opening her eyes wider in mild surprise. Then a 
possible explanation of his evident embarrassment 
occurred to her. “Oh, and you are going to suggest 
that, as you are going away for an indefinite time, 
we shouldn’t be regularly engaged till you come back 
again .? ” 

Nanny said this in a very matter-of-fact tone, but 
she was of course secretly nettled by the possibility. 
Her lover, however, protested with startling vehe- 
mence. 

“ No, no, indeed ! I would give up any business, 
however important, rather than that. What I had to 
suggest was — was, in fact, that we should be married 
— first. ” 

“First! Before next week 1 ” 

“Yes. Don’t look alarmed ; and, above all, don’t 
be offended.” For over Nanny’s bright young face 
was creeping a look of blank dismay. “You have 
promised to be my wife ; I shall never be happy 
until you have fulfilled that promise. Why should 
we wait ? ” 

“My — wedding — dress!” gasped Nanny. “I 
couldn’t have even that ready in time ! ” 

On this Captain Ryder grew even more persistent. 

“What do you want with a special dress ? The one 
you have on is charming ! ” 

Nanny interrupted him with a little scream. 

“ This old thing ! Oh, you can’t mean it ! ” 

“But I do, indeed. Above all things I hate a fuss, 
such as people generally make about weddings. I 
think it indecorous — absurd,” said he, with more 
irritability than Nanny had yet seen him show about 
anything. 


12 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


The poor child’s expression was growing tragic. 
To be married in this brown stuff frock, which when it 
was new, had only cost eleven-pence three-farthings 
a yard, would be only a little better than not to be 
married at all. But, beneath her mutinous ways, 
there was in Nanny an under-current of submission to 
authority which made her content herself with protest, 
instead of pushing matters to absolute refusal. Her 
grave face made Captain Ryder laugh, but it also 
woke in him a lover s compunction. 

‘ ‘ Why, I only told my sister about it three days 
ago, and got her answer this-morning,” she murmured 
in a wavering tone in which there was an accent of 
despair. 

“And I got a letter from your father this morning, 
in reply to mine, in which he says that since — since 
” Here Captain Ryder hunted for the letter, pro- 
duced a long document on blue, official-looking paper 
which Nanny recognised as similar to that on which 
her father wrote his scientific treaties, and proceeded 
to read aloud from it in a modestly triumphant voice : 
“‘Since my daughter Antonia’ — Nanny made a 
grimace — ‘has selected you as the one individual in the 
universe to whom she feels conscious that she may 
entrust her happiness without hesitation (and that she 
does so feel is evident from the precipitancy with 
which she has entered into this engagement), a refusal 
on my part to accord my consent to her union with 
you would argue a lack of appreciation of your 
straightforward and honourable pretensions, which I 
should be exceedingly reluctant to exhibit. I there- 
fore most cordially ’ ” 

Nanny interrupted the reading by a nod and a little 
cough. 

“ Thank you,” she said drily. “You needn’t read 
any more. I’ve known papa for some years now, 
and I could tell you what he means in a dozen words 
without wading through all that. In modern, vulgar 
English, it is this : ‘ Marry daughter ! (Frocks and 
food for one girl less.) Rather ! ’ All the same,” she 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


n 

went on, with a sigh, “ I meant to let him in for one 
frock more ! " 

“You shall buy yourself the prettiest frock in 
London as soon as you are my wife ; and I will send 
to Hancock s to-night for some diamond rings to 
choose from.” 

“ Diamond rings ! ” cried Nanny, in astonishment, 
her pretty eyes sparkling and her disappointment 
forgotten, as she leaped off the stile, unable to control 
her delight. “But you said you were a poor man ! 
I begin to think,” she went on, shaking her head 
wisely, ‘ ‘ that your sort of poverty is a very different 
thing from our sort of poverty, and that I shall like 
yours much the best.” 

Captain Ryder laughed 

“Why, I did not mean, certainly, when I said I 
was poor, that I could not provide my wife with 
everything befitting her rank as my wife " — Nanny 
felt that she was growing taller — “but only that I 
cannot afford to keep her in the style her beauty 
deserves. ” 

The stiff, soldierly compliment delighted Nanny. 
Her young face beamed, and, between compliments 
and talk of diamonds, she forgot her disappointment 
over the quiet wedding. His next words, however, 
threw a slight chill over her exuberant joy. 

“There’s a lot to be done at Brent Grange,” he 
said, “before it can be made fit for you to live in. It 
has been shut up for years — ever since my father 
died, I believe. That’s the important business I have 
to see to. But we may just as well be married first, 
and then there will be less risk of my spoiling the 
business by hurrying over it.” 

And he looked at her with an affectionate smile. 

Brent Grange ! The name sounded not quite pleas- 
antly in Nanny’s ears. She did not feel any real 
alarm ; still, she was conscious of a dim wish that 
Meg had not listened to silly gossip, and put ideas 
into her head which she would rather have been 
without. Taking the cloud which had come over 


14 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


her face merely as a touch of maidenly hesitation 
at the nearness of the opening of her married life, 
Captain Ryder went on quickly : 

“And we can stay at an hotel in London while 
the workmen are in the house, and go to the theatres, 
and buy pretty things. ” 

Nanny turned her head quickly, with a little bub- 
bling sigh of delight. The theatres ! Oh, this was 
worth a possible tragedy in the family ! 

Her lover was obliged to smile, though a little rueful- 
ly, at the ingenuousness with which poor Nanny un- 
consciously made it clear that the least interesting part 
of marriage to her was the husband. She burst into 
incoherent raptures ; and as they made their way 
slowly over the fields towards the farmhouse. Captain 
Ryder had wit enough to use this inducement so well 
that, before they entered, Nanny had consented to 
marry him in the following week. 

Mrs. Thomas, the farmer s wife, was a bright little, 
rosy-cheeked woman, who had been nurse to both 
Margaret and Antonia May. So that when Nanny, 
whose health was not robust, needed change of air, it 
was down at the little farmhouse on the hills over- 
looking Swansea Bay that she found it. Here it was 
that Captain Ryder, who was staying on the outskirts 
of the town of Swansea, at a friend s house, met the 
girl by chance as he was trepassing on Bay View 
Farm, fell in love with her as she led him to the high- 
road, and left no stone unturned until he had found 
means to secure a proper introduction. 

Mrs. Thomas curtsied as she invited Captain Ryder 
to enter ; but when she heard the news they had to 
tell, she was filled with dismay. She was holding 
open the door of the “parlour/’ a tiny apartment 
filled with souvenirs from her old charges, and the 
window of which was blocked up with straggling 
geraniums. Mrs. Thomas thought highly of this 
room, in which she had introduced the luxury of a 
piano. 

But Nanny loved the brick-floored kitchen, with 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


i5 

its rug made of odd scraps of cloth, its miracu- 
lously hard sofa, its garniture of hanging hams, and 
the linnet in a wicker cage by the window, better 
than the cold splendours of the parlour. 

“No, no, nurse. In here,” she said. And she 
put her hands lightly on her lover s shoulders to guide 
his steps into the kitchen, where a faint glow under 
the smouldering coals invited the attention of a small 
ginger-coloured cat, who seemed to waver between 
the charms of rug and fire on the one hand, and the 
warm September sun outside on the other. 

“Oh, Miss Nanny,” cried Mrs. Thomas, as soon 
as she fully comprehended the impending calamity ; 
‘ ‘ why, it’s as much as there’ll be time for me to get 
the cake done — for the icing can’t be done while its 
new ! ” 

“Then why have icing, Mrs. Thomas.?” said Cap- 
tain Ryder, fearing the old woman’s influence might 
be strong enough to make Nanny waver again. 
“ I’m sure any cake of your making would be good 
enough without. ” 

‘ ‘ Good enough ! yes, sir. But there’s the pro- 
prieties to be considered in these things,” said the ex- 
nurse with dignity. “And Miss Antonia’s too good 
to be given away with a pound of tea, as it were. 
Her own mother not being alive, poor lady ! to look 
after her daughter, it’s for me to think of these things. 
And, if I may make so bold, sir, it’s not fitting Miss 
Antonia should marry you till she’s been introduced 
to some of the ladies of your family.” 

As the. old lady uttered these words with some dig- 
nity, secure in her knowledge of the etiquette of 
these matters. Captain Ryder became so evidently 
disturbed that both of his companions looked at him 
curiously. He perceived this, and laughed, though 
rather uneasily. 

“My good lady,” said he, “your Miss Nanny is 
not going to marry the ladies of my family ; and she 
can very well put off the curious scrutiny she will be 
subjected to until she has acquired the dignity of a 


i6 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


married woman. What do you think, my dear ? ” 
he added, turning to her rather anxiously. 

“Oh, I will do — ^^just what you like,” she answered, 
with a blush of pretty submission, but not without 
a slight secret feeling, half of curiosity, half of uneasi- 
ness. 

She would have liked, before taking the final 
plunge, to have seen some one who could tell her 
something about “the family.” 

But the matter was disposed of now, and there 
were plenty of other things to think about — the first, 
when Captain Ryder left the farmhouse that after- 
noon, being to write again to Meg, telling her the 
date of the wedding. 

Then for three days there was a rush of work at the 
farm : frantic excitement on the part of the women- 
folk, ill-concealed impatience on that of the lover, 
Nanny rushing about like a whirlwind all day long, 
with a needle and cotton in her hand, pretending that 
she could sew. 

On the day before the wedding the lovers were 
sitting together in the farmhouse kitchen. Nanny 
was sewing a button on her fiance’s glove while he 
was giving her a lesson in making toast. Mrs. 
Thomas was bustling in and out of the room 
preparing an elaborate tea in the front parlour, 
and grieving over the lack of dignity revealed by the 
homely tastes of the lovers. When she was a young 
girl “keeping company,” the parlour was the only 
place good enough for her and her “intended ” to sit 
in, looking through photographic albums. But, there ! 
she had often noticed, in her years of service, that 
gentlefolk were peculiar in their tastes ; and if they 
liked the kitchen better than the parlour, why, to be 
sure, the floor was as clean as a new pin, and the 
plates on the dresser, and the tinware on the walls 
shone with constant scrubbing. 

She had just come to the fireplace with the teapot 
in her hand, and Captain Ryder was gallantly holding 
the kettle and delivering a lecture on tea-making at 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


17 


the same time, when a shuffling sound was heard on 
the brick floor of the passage outside, and one of the 
farm-boys put his head round the door. He didn't 
look at anybody in particular, his attention being 
immediately absorbed by the plate of hot muffins by 
the fire ; but he sniffed, and he coughed, to intimate 
that he was an ambassador. Captain Ryder saw 
him first. 

“There’s a gentleman at the door," said he gently. 

The ‘ ‘ gentleman " grinned from ear to ear. 

“Nay, master," said he; “but there’s a lady 
waitin ’ for you outside, look you ! ’’ 

“A lady ! What do you mean by a lady, Hugh.!* 
Anybody from the village ? ’’ asked Mrs. Thomas. 

“Nay, it’s nobody from the village, nor from the 
town. It’s a strange lady.’’ 

And Hugh advanced a step into the room, to get 
a better view of the muffins. Mrs. Thomas went 
towards the door, and Nanny looked up at her lover 
with a laugh. But the expression she caught on his 
face was one of unmistakable fear. 

“What’s the matter, Dan?’’ she asked anxiously, 
and with curiosity. 

He laughed, but not very spontaneously, and as he 
answered he was evidently listening. 

“Matter? Nothing — but that the kettle is hot and 
Mrs. Thomas’s kettle-holder worn out.’’ 

But Nanny was so convinced that this was not all 
the matter that she withdrew her eyes shyly from his 
face and kept them on the glove in her hand, until a 
familiar voice in the passage struck upon her ear. 

“ Meg ! " she shouted, as she threw glove, button, 
needle and all away from her, and flung her arms 
round her sister's neck. “Oh, Meg, how lovely of 
you to come ! ’’ 

“You didn’t think I should let you go right off in 
that way without coming, did you ? ’ said her sister, 
m a voice full of affection. 

And then she turned sharply, full of curiosity to 
see the man who was to be her darling Nanny’s 
2 


1 8 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

husband. There was nothing in him that she could 
find fault with ; appearance, manners, attitude to- 
wards her sister, all were perfectly right. When the 
girls were alone together that night, Meg had nothing 
to say against him. 

But yet the vague fears roused in her by old Miss 
Anstruther’s words were not wholly appeased, more 
especially as she found that her sister knew no more 
about his connections than she did. As for Nanny, 
Meg s coming had put everything right for her — she 
would be crying with girlish fright one moment, 
dancing with excitement and happiness the next. 

‘ ‘ I shall have a house — a house of my own, Meg, 
where you can come and stay with me ! ” she cried. 
“I shall be Mrs. Ryder of Brent Grange.” 

‘ ‘ Brent Grange ? ” cried Meg, aghast 

Nanny frowned petulantly. 

“ Oh, dear ! I didn’t mean to tell you. What do an 
old woman’s stories matter? I was afraid you’d 
make a fuss about it.” 

But Meg did not “make a fuss” ; she was too 
much alarmed for that. She could not stop the mar- 
riage now, with nothing definite to go upon. She 
could only lie awake that night worrying herself 
about her sister’s hasty marriage, and praying that 
Nanny might be happy. 

The wedding took place in the simplest fashion. 
Mr. Thomas drove the sisters into the town at eight 
o’clock in the morning ; they entered the church, 
where they found Captain Ryder waiting at the door, 
and the ceremony was performed at once without 
incident, the old clergyman mumbling the service 
through in a voice so low that Meg caught scarcely 
a word. 

But when they all went into the vestry, and bride- 
groom and bride had signed their names m the 
register, Meg stared blankly at the page as she in 
turn took up the pen. 

The bridegroom had signed his name as “Ralph 
Ryder.” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


*9 


CHAPTER 11. 

Name: ‘‘Ralph Ryder”; condition: “Bachelor”; 
Age: “30.” 

This was what Captain Ryder had written in the 
marriage-register, and this was what Margaret May 
read with starting eyes, as she took the pen to sign 
her own name as witness to her sister's marriage. 
As she glanced from the writing to his face. Captain 
Ryder looked back at her with a slight frown of 
annoyance. But he was admirably cool, and even 
before she removed her gaze he smiled, and tapped 
the page to show her where her own name was to 
appear. 

“Yes,” she said faintly, while Nanny, not having 
noticed, in her excitement, that which had alarmed 
her sister, looked at her in surprise; “I know. 
But ” 

She pointed, while clergyman, clerk, Nanny, and 
Mr. Thomas looked on with astonishment, to his sig- 
nature. 

Captain Ryder, with a little more vexation than 
before in his face and voice, glanced down at the page, 
and then again at Meg. 

“Well, it is quite right. That is my name,” he 
said irritably. 

But this incident having drawn everybody’s at- 
tention to the register, the three other men present 
were all considering, with knitted brows, another 
point in his description of himself, and, after reading 
‘ ‘ Age : 30, ” were examining his appearance in be- 
wilderment. 

Perceiving this. Captain Ryder suddenly showed 
more susceptibility to criticism. He grew very red 
under the sunburn of his skin, and playing nervously 


20 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


with his moustache, answered their looks with apol- 
ogetic words. 

“Yes, yes. Nobody will believe I am not more 
than thirty, I know, unless I produce my certificate 
of birth — which unfortunately I don't happen to carry 
about with me,” he said, irritation getting the better 
of his confusion, as he uttered the last words. “I 
ought to dye my hair, or something — and I will, now 
I am married.” 

Again he caught Meg's eye, and saw in her ex- 
pression more suspicion than ever. Instead of shrink- 
ing, however, he frowned upon her angrily as, having 
recovered her quiet self-possession, she held her 
ground. 

“ But the name you have written here is ‘ Ralph,’ 
and we understood that it was ‘ Daniel, ’ ” she ob- 
jected, not aggressively, but in a courteously depre- 
cating tone. 

“‘Daniel!’” he laughed derisively. “No, I am 
afraid 1 cannot claim to be a Daniel. ‘Dan’ is the 
nickname I am known by in the regiment. My 
name is Ralph. ” 

There was no more to be said. His explanations 
were clear enough, and seemed to satisfy every one 
else— from the clergyman, anxious to show regret for 
his expression of surprise by relating how his own 
father had gone gray while still young, to Nanny, 
who tapped her foot impatiently and looked at her 
sister with opep vexation. Whether he spoke truth 
or falsehood. Captain Ryder had such a perfectly nat- 
ural and dignified manner that it was scarcely possible 
to express open disbelief. 

In poor Meg’s ears however, as they all left the 
church, rang the words she had been repeating to 
herself ever since she heard old Miss Anstruther’s 
comment on her sisters approaching marriao-e 
— “Ralph Ryder of Brent, Ralph Ryder of Brent.” 

She found herself walking to this refrain, which, 
indeed, had rung in her ears to the rattle of the train 
which carried her from Edinburgh to Swansea. It 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


21 


seemed to her that it must have been familiar to her 
for a long time, and the poor girl asked herself 
whether she had not in her childhood heard the name 
whispered as that of some monster of crime. 

So they all got up again into the farmers cart, and 
were driven back by him to Bay View Farm in the 
bright sunshine of the early September morning, all 
very silent and all conscious that they had been 
assisting at a very rapid rush into lifelong responsi- 
bilities. 

Mrs. Thomas had been persuaded to staying at 
home “to have the breakfast quite ready in time,” 
they said, but really to avoid the risk of her expan- 
sive feelings getting the better of her during the cer- 
emony. She now met them on the threshold, beam- 
ing with cheerful pleasure, incoherent with excitement, 
offering a hearty embrace to all who would accept 
it, not excepting the dignified bridegroom himself. 

“Hold hard, lass!” said the farmer, in good-hu- 
moured amusement at his wife’s sobs. “One ’ud 
think it was thou as had just been married. Tears is 
the bride’s privilege. ” 

“ Nonsense, Evan I I am not crying. And it’s only 
because Tm so happy to have my little lady, and like 
my own child that was, go off from our house.” 

“Well, if it’s tears of happiness the thought of 
marriage makes thee shed now, it’s the first time 
thou’s seen it in such a fair light, judging by what 
thou's said to me!'" grumbled Evan, with a shake of 
the head. 

His wife did not heed him. She was leading Nanny, 
who was very quiet, white, and nervous, into the par- 
lour, where a “breakfast” was spread, which was a 
pride and a joy to Mrs. Thomas to her dying day. 
Even the unappreciative Evan felt a proud glow at 
the genius of his betterdialf, as he looked from the 
elaborate icing of the cake to the pink blanc-mange, 
the castellated and highly glazed wall of the raised 
pie, and the opaque white paste which disguised the 
chickens. 


22 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


“ Nothing looked as if it was made to eat, I declare 
it didn’t ! ” was his admiring comment to his wife 
afterwards. 

The magnificence of the repast made a convenient 
topic for the bridal party, over whom an air of con- 
straint had hung since the incident in the vestry. 
Nanny, to Meg’s great grief, seemed to resent those 
comments of the latter which had led to it. 

The bride and bridegroom were to leave Swansea 
by an early train, and a cab had been ordered to take 
them to the station. When it droA'^e up, Nanny ran 
upstairs to get ready, as if impatient to break up the 
oppressive constraint which was upon them all. 

Meg rose to follow her, but Captain Ryder, anxious 
that no words of prejudice should be poured into his 
newly-made wife’s ear, and determined also to have 
an explanation with her sister, detained the latter ; 
and, at his suggestion, they went out into the little 
garden among the late roses, the southern-wood, the 
asters, the purple pansies, and the stiff rockeries 
with their pretty growth of stonecrop. Here he 
opened fire upon her at once. 

‘ ‘ Will you tell me. Miss May, what it is that has 
caused you to look upon me, and even to treat me, 
as if I were a suspicious character } If it is, as I sup- 
pose, only the natural jealousy of one sister who 
is losing the other, don’t you think you carried the 
expression of it this morning a little too far .? ” 

Nothing could have been more simple and straight- 
forward than his manner. Meg, who was a sturdy 
little sandy-haired person, with penetrating blue eyes, 
could detect no sign of a guilty conscience under his 
annoyance. She hesitated, and felt ashamed and 
uncomfortable. 

“ I haven’t known you long enough to feel the 
confidence of an old friend towards you, have I .? ” 
she asked frankly. 

“ But I am staying with old friends who are very 
well known in this town. Surely that is testimony 
enough to my not being a bad character } ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


n 

“Oh, yes, but You seemed in such a hurry to 

marry her and carry her otf before you could know 
any of her people, or she know any of yours.” 

“Well, you should be the last person to be sur- 
prised at my anxiety to carry her off. As for her 
people, they seem, as far as her affections are con- 
cerned, to be summed up in you. As for mine- ” 

“ Well.? ” said Meg somewhat eagerly, seeing that 
he stopped. 

‘ ‘ Mine are all summed up in one person also — my 
mother. And, frankly, I was ‘in a hurry,’ as you 
call it, to get my marriage over before she could 
learn anything about it.” 

“But why.?” asked Meg, rather haughtily. “We 
are poor certainly. But, after all, our father is a well- 
known scientific writer, and our family ” 

“Is one that I am greatly honoured in connect- 
ing myself with, ” he interrupted, with a formal little 
bow. “The whole truth is simply this — that my 
mother, having been left a widow young, with no 
child but me, has hung over me and kept me tied to 
her apron-string all her life ; so that I dread the 
thought of her jealousy in the weakest-minded way 
in the world.” 

He spoke with more irritability than affection, 
which Meg considered an ugly trait in a son so 
adored. 

“ She won’t want to live with you, I hope ! ” broke 
out the girl with more sincerity than discretion. “I 
— I beg your pardon, but you see, it would be rather 
unpleasant for Nanny, wouldn’t it .? ” 

Captain Ryder s face clouded with annoyance. 

“Yes, very. I am most anxious to avoid such a 
thing. But I think it can be done. My mother hates 
Brent Grange, because it recalls the loss of my father. 
And I am determined to live there. Now are you 
satisfied ? 

Not at all. Meg’s lips did not say this, but her 
eyes did ; and Captain Ryder noted her suspicious 
expression in apparent perplexity. 


24 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


“Thank you ; ” was all she said. Then, gathering 
a pretty half-blown rose, she said she would take it 
to Nanny. 

But again she was stopped. 

“No,” said the bridegroom imperatively, “you 
are not going to poison her mind with your suspicions 
and suggestions. Whatever you have more in your 
mind about me say out frankly to me. ” 

“ I will then,” cried Meg, her face crimson, her 
voice shaking, “I — I have heard of a Captain Ryder 
who IS a very bad man, and who — who has a wife 
living. ” 

He heard her very quietly, and his face grew at 
least as red as hers. There was an embarrassed 
pause when she had finished speaking. Meg’s feet 
moved restlessly on the garden-path. 

‘ ‘ And you have reason to think — what } That I 
am that Captain Ryder } ” 

But the suspicion she had entertained, thus put 
into words, was too much for poor Meg’s equanimity. 
She drew a long breath of horror and fear suppressed. 

“ If it is some relation of yours she said at last, in 
a scarcely audible whisper, “tell me. Naturally I 
should say nothing about it. And the relief it would 
give me — to know — after what 1 have wondered — 
and feared Tell me, do tell me.” 

Her heart sank as she looked up at him. He 
either was, or pretended to be, deeply offended. 

“ I am sorry that I can’t credit myself with biga- 
mous intentions to satisfy you,” he said coldly. 

‘ ‘ And as I am at present the only Captain Ryder in 
the service, your informant must have been drawing 
on his invention.” 

Meg shot her last bolt quickly, hoping to catch 
him by surprise. ' 

“ Have you ever had in your family a Lady Ellen 
Ryder.? ” she asked. 

At last she saw that she had come to one little 
scrap of solid fact which he was not in a position to 
deny. 


25 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

Well ? said he shortly. 

‘ ‘ She could tell me what you — will not ! ” 

“It seems to me that, on the contrary, you could 
tell her a great deal about her family which she does 
not know.” 

“ Will you introduce me to her? ” 

“ I am afraid you must excuse me. I must decline 
to expose any lady of my family to the insulting 
cross-examination you have put me through this 
morning. ” 

“ Now, why do I do it ? Isn’t it clear enough that 
I can have only one motive— concern for my sister’s 
happiness ? If I had had time, I could have made 
inquiries ; but it was suddenly sprung upon me that 
she was to be married in a few days, and I had no 
time. So I had to put my questions direct to you.’’ 

^‘And what was the use of that, since you were 
determined not to be satisfied with my answers ? 
Once for all, I tell you there is nothing to learn 
about me, and that there is not now, and never has 
been, any sort of mystery attached to any member 
of my family. We have always been honest, ordinary, 
humdrum people, with a penchant for the army, and 
nothing else to distinguish us. ” 

Nanny was at the door, putting on her gloves, and 
glancing towards them with nervous, eager interest. 
Therefore Captain Ryder uttered this last speech 
rapidly, with his eyes fixed upon his bride. He was 
at least thankful that he had succeeded in keeping the 
sisters apart at the last. But when, after one long 
embrace between them, the farewells Were over, and 
bride and bridegroom were driving rapidly on their 
way to the station, Nanny turned quickly to her hus- 
band and asked : 

“What was that you were saying to Meg ? ” 
Captain Ryder looked annoyed, as well he might, 
and withdrew the arm he had flung around her. 

“Nothing, my darling; at least, she was only 
telling me to take care of you,” 

“ Oh, no, she wasn’t,” said Nanny, who had caught 


26 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


stray words of their talk as she stood preparing for 
the journey at her little window not far above their 
heads. ‘'You said something about a mystery. 
What was it T' 

‘ ‘ I said there was no mystery, ” he answered shortly. 
“Your sister persisted that I was the possessor 
of a criminal secret of some kind, and wouldn’t 
believe my denials. Do you know where she got 
hold of the story ? ” 

“No,” answered Nanny. 

She was rather frightened by the vexation in his 
tones and by the change to abruptness in his manner. 
She had seen him before only in a state of yielding, 
sentimental softness, and without considering how 
much reason he had to be annoyed, she shrank from 
him in timid bewilderment. 

After this they were both silent; the cab drove 
quickly on until, arriving at the top of the steep de- 
scent into the town, the horse had to slacken his pace. 
As they jolted slowly down, they passed the house 
where Captain Ryder had been staying ; and from 
half a dozen windows handfuls of rice were flung on 
the cab by merry young girls who had been lying in 
wait for it. 

At the same time, a man-servant ran out of the gate, 
and handed a telegram in to Captain Ryder through 
the cab-window. 

“ It came for you only ten minutes ago, sir ; so I 
was told to look out for you, and deliver it as you 
went past.” 

As Captain Ryder took it, a shade passed over his 
face, which became a black frown as he read the 
message. He said nothing about it to his bride, who 
was watching him and even furtively trying to read 
it over his shoulder : but he put the telegram carefully 
back into its torn envelope, and into one of the pockets 
of the greatcoat he wore. 

Nanny, like the spoilt child she was, resolved to read 
that telegram or perish in the attempt. 

To Captain Ryder’s annoyance, but to the poor 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


27 


little bride’s great joy, they could not get a carriage 
to themselves in the train, and had to get in with a 
fidgety City family, returning to London after their 
Summer holiday. Her head was in a whirl, with 
excitement and want of sleep and a young girl’s 
wondering emotions on her wedding-day. And a fear 
of her newly-made husband ran through it all, 
mingled with astonishment that she could have mar- 
ried a man of whom she knew so little. 

The day was warm ; the heat of the crowded car- 
riage soon became unbearable, and Captain Ryder 
took off his overcoat and made it into a cushion for 
her. She would have been much more comfortable 
without it ; but he was in the adoring stage when he 
must make her life unbearable with his attentions 
rather than leave her alone. So she put up with the 
inconvenience patiently, in the knowledge that it 
would make her intention of reading the telegram the 
easier to carry out. When, therefore, the train stopped 
for five minutes at Bristol, Nanny at once sent her 
husband to the bookstall to choose her a novel — “one 
of Ouida’s, or the author of ‘ Archie Lovell, ’ or Mrs. 
Oliphant’s, or Rhoda Broughton’s.” 

With which somewhat puzzling directions, the 
bridegroom, marvelling at the catholicity of her liter- 
ary taste, submissively took himself off. 

In a moment Nanny’s fingers were diving into his 
greatcoat pockets ; she pulled out the telegram, read 
it, and thrust it back again, to the amusement of her 
fellow-travellers and her own discomfiture. For the 
message was as follows : 

“ Come up at once and meet me at the Metropole. 
Take no step till I have seen you. 

“F. R.’ 

The telegram had been sent off from “Brent,” and 
Nanny guessed that it was from Captain Ryder’s 
mother, who visited the place from time to time, as 
he had told the young girl, to look after the property 
she had there. 


28 


I^ALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


Nanny trembled at the thought of what awaited 
her. She knew that the Metropole was the hotel to 
which her husband was going to take her — he had 
told her so the night before. If she was to be exposed, 
immediately on her arrival in town, to the furious 
anger of a jealous and imperious mother-in-law, 
Nanny felt that she should break down, run away, do 
something desperate. 

When her husband came back, followed by a boy 
with a tray full of books, the poor child was in such 
a state of confusion and excitement, consequent on 
her own indiscretion, that she took up a yellow-backed 
novel without even reading the title, and with a hasty 
‘ ‘ This will do beautifully, ’’ sat back guiltily in her 
corner. 

Perhaps Captain Ryder, who had already learned 
{o watch every change of her fresh little face, guessed 
what she had been doing, and took pity on her. At 
any rate, when they at last reached Paddington, and 
got into a hansom, the hotel Captain Ryder directed 
the man to drive to was not the Metropole. Nanny 
dared not ask the reason of this change of plan ; but 
her husband presently turned to her and said : 

‘ ‘ I don’t think you will find town lively at this 
time of year. We have just an hour to get something 
to eat, and then we go right through to Paris.” 

“To Paris!” echoed Nanny, with a start of 
surprise, and an impulse of delight, which was fol- 
lowed immediately by a sneaking regret that it was 
not Meg she was going with, instead of this alarm- 
ing incubus of a husband. For Nanny had not time 
to fall in love with the man who had chosen her, and 
he was becoming every moment more terrible in her 
girlish eyes. 

This mother-in-law too, whom they were evidently 
going away to avoid, was another terror in store for 
her. Nanny pictured to herself the awe-inspiring 
person she would be — an upright, commanding 
woman, with fierce black eyes. The young bride 
knew that the elder Mrs. Ryder had followed her son 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


29 

wherever he was sent with his regiment, had been 
with him in India, and at Gibraltar, and that it was 
by a quite unusual chance that he had been staying at 
Swansea without her. To face her would be an 
ordeal from which even high-spirited Nanny shrank. 

Meanwhile she was being whirled off to Paris with- 
out a moment’s time for calm reflection. 

And if the journey afforded no chance of quiet 
thought, what of the next few days } Nanny, brought 
to the brightest of bright cities, with all the fresh 
power of enjoyment of early youth, attended by a 
slavishly devoted husband whom she, in her turn, 
soon began to adore, was as much intoxicated as a 
child at its first pantomime. 

All the sober realities of life, to say nothing of ugly 
mysteries and evil, whispered stories, had disappeared 
from view in these days which were like a fairytale 
adapted to the earth. From the moment when the 
morning sun, shining into the bright little bedroom 
of the hotel, with its many-colored carpet, its huge 
looking-glass, and its gilt clock which never told the 
time, kissed her pretty eyes into wakefulness, one 
pleasure followed fast upon the heels of another, 
until, wearied with the delight of living, she fell asleep 
again at night with words of love in her ears. And 
Captain Ryder, if he was less susceptible to the 
charms of the lively city, was at least as happy as 
she, for he was even more in love. 

One trouble he had, but he would not let her share 
it with him. Every day he received a long letter in 
a woman's handwriting, and while he wlas reading 
it and for some time afterwards, he looked harassed 
and annoyed. These letters were not sent to the 
hotel where they were staying, but to another at 
which Captain Ryder would call to fetch them. 
And he made no secret of the fact that he gave no one 
his real address because he did not want his honey- 
moon to be interrupted. 

‘‘From your mother, dear.?” Nanny would ask 
sympathetically, as he hastily thrust the unwelcome 
letter into his pocket. 


30 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


He would say “Yes” rather shortly, and there 
for the day the matter ended. 

Oh, what a Gorgon she must be, Nanny thought, 
to worry the poor fellow like this, when he had only 
done what every other man did, and what he had a 
perfect right to do, in getting married ! But Captain 
Ryder, although he did not speak of his mother with 
any striking amount of affection, would never hear a 
word against her. 

“ She has had her own way all her life, and is very 
clever and used to managing,” he would say. 

And then, having fulfilled his duty, he would seem 
glad to change the subject. 

But after a fortnight or so, even this cloud on their 
happiness seemed to melt away, for the letters stopped. 
Thenceforward the only small trial in Nanny’s rosy 
existence was the amount of attention her charming 
appearance excited in the Parisians, whose courtsey 
to strangers has been so ludicrously over-praised. 

She bore this little annoyance in silence, however, 
until one day when her husband, having driven with 
her to the Cascade in the Bois de Boulogne in an 
open fiacre, left her alone one moment to bring her 
some fruit from the restaurant. She would have 
liked to accompany him, and to eat her pear and 
drink her wine at one of those little marble topped 
tables, among the bourgeois wedding-parties and the 
gaily-laughing couples who congregated there. But 
her husband would have thought there was con- 
tamination for his sweet wife in such contact. When 
he returned, Nanny was flushed with annoyance. 

“ Do you know, Dan, these people are really very 
rude .? ” she said impatiently. “ As soon as you left 
me, a little old woman, who was driving past, stopped 
her fiacre, and deliberately got out and walked round 
to stare at me. Of course I pretended to take no no- 
tice, but it was done deliberately, I assure you. And, 
more than that, I have seen the same old woman 
staring at me before like that, once when we were 
sitting on the Boulevard des Italiens, and once at the 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


31 

Comedie Fran^ais. I do think these French manners 
are shameful ! ” 

“ Perhaps she wasn’t French,’’ suggested Captain 
Ryder, in a very quiet voice. “ What was she like .? ” 

“ She was very, very tiny, and bent and shrivelled. 
She had white hair, and an insignificant, withered 
little face,^ with two long prominent front teeth, one 
on each side. And she walked with a stick, leaning 
on it all the time, just like a witch.” 

“ I thought so,” said Captain Ryder, pulling his 
moustache fiercely, as he did when he was angry. 
“ It was my mother.” 

“ Your mother ! ” echoed Nanny in astonishment. 
“ Oh, no, that is not possible. You have told me 
your mother is not much more than fifty, and was 
once a beauty. Now, this woman was seventy-five 
at least, and as ugly as she could be ! ” 

“ Nevertheless it is my mother. Little woman, 
our honeymoon is over ! ” 

Nanny could not quite believe it. The little old 
lady was ugly and witchlike, but she was not at all 
formidable-looking ; not at all the clever, managing 
woman Dan had described. 

When, therefore, while she was dressing the next 
morning, and her husband had gone out for an early 
stroll, a card was brought up to her bearing the name 
“ Mrs. Ryder,” she flew down into the reading-room 
in a state of great curiosity and excitement. Dan 
was right. It was the little old lady who had stared 
at her so persistently in the Bois. 

And yet was it Dan’s mother after all } For, with 
a pleasant smile, and the softest, kindest voice in the 
world, the tiny, witch-like creature was raising her 
face to the soft young one for a kiss, and was con- 
gratulating her already on her marriage ! 

“ He will be a good husband to you, I am sure,” 
said the soft voice, “ for he has been a good son to 
me.’’ 

And Nanny, returning the caress timidly, felt alarmed 
and bewildered. 


32 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


CHAPTER HI. 

Nanny wondered more and more, as she sat down by 
old Mrs. Ryder’s side in the big reading-room of the 
hotel, and felt the affectionate touch of the small, 
thin hand, how the difference between the real mother- 
in-law and the mother-in-law of her imagination, was 
to be accounted for. Her husband had always spoken 
of his mother with the greatest respect, but without 
much affection ; as of one whose strong will had kept 
him in bondage for a great many years, and whose 
jealousy had prevented him from marrying. Yet here 
she was, all sweetness and gentleness, already treat- 
ing her son’s wife as a beloved daughter; and soli- 
citously, yet with a pretty deference to the girl-wife, 
asking questions about Dan. 

“Is he well, dear? Happy of course he is,” she 
added with a smile. 

Yes, he was quite well, Nanny said. 

“ And you don’t lead too dissipated a life, I sup- 
pose ? ** went on old Mrs. Ryder, with a little anxiety 
in her tone. “ Late hours, days too full of sight-see- 
ing, theatres night after night, and — and champagne- 
luncheons as a pick-me-up in the morning ? ” 

“ Everything but the last we must plead guilty to, 

I am afraid ! ” answered Nanny, laughing. “ We do 
go about a great deal, but we don’t drink much cham- 
pagne. I like orgeat better, and Dan doesn't drink 
much of anything.” 

This answer evidently gave much satisfaction to 
the old lady, who, noting the little smile about the 
corners of the bride's mouth, shook her head gently, 
and said : 

“You think me a fussy old woman, dear, don’t 
you ? But men who have lived in India have to be 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


33 

very careful what they drink, I assure you ; especially 
those of highly nervous temperament, like my son, 
Dan. Of course, and she leaned forward confiden- 
tially, and placed her hand upon Nanny’s much larger 
one, “ you needn’t tell him that I said this to you, 
But it is better to know it.” 

The young wife assented, with secret amusement 
at the idea of her daring to suggest to Dan what he 
should or should not eat or drink. Devoted though 
he was to her, Captain Ryder, with his gray hair and 
dignified manner, inspired Nanny still with some 
awe ; it was he, and not she, who took the lead in 
suggesting what they should do, and where they should 
go. Therefore, when the elder lady asked whether 
she liked the idea of setting down at Brent Grange, 
Nanny replied dutifully that she should like whatever 
Dan chose to do. 

“ And you think he would like to settle down at 
Brent } ” asked Mrs. Ryder doifbtfully. 

‘ ‘ He has always spoken of it as a matter of course ! ” 
said Nanny, looking at her with some surprise. 
“ Hasn’t he got some property or other there ? He 
seems to think he ought to look after it, and I know 
he blames himself for having left all the trouble of it 
to you while he went travelling about the world. 
Besides, he says that, always wandering about, he 
has never yet had a home.” 

Both ladies flushed deeply, and poor Nanny would 
have given worlds to withdraw that apparently unkind 
speech. She had, indeed, only repeated Dan’s words ; 
but it was not until now that she saw what a reproach 
they contained to the mother who had scarcely ever 
left him. 

‘ ‘ Of course travelling about always must be mis- 
erable. And you can’t expect ever to be really com- 
fortable until the very ground your house stands on 
is your own, so Dan says,” she added quickly; but 
with an uncomfortable consciousness, as she noticed 
the expression on her companion’s face, that she was 
making matters worse instead of better. 

3 


34 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


“ I thought that life was the best for him,” said the 
old lady humbly, almost pleadingly. “And I knew 
that, if he married, he would want to give it up. But,” 
she went on, in a different tone, ‘ ‘ I don't think you 
would, either of you, be comfortable at Brent Grange. 
The neighbourhood has gone down of late years ; 
almost all the large houses are to let ; and they are 
pulling them down to build rows of small shops. Be- 
sides, the Grange is not half a mile from some brick- 
fields, and the smell, when the wind is south or south- 
east, is almost unbearable.” 

If this was a correct description, it was not an invit- 
ing one, certainly. Nanny considered the prospect 
for a moment, and then burst out with a happy sugges- 
tion, as she thought : 

‘ ‘ But Dan has another house down there, hasn't he .? 
He '' 

Mrs. Ryder interrupted her very abruptly. 

‘ ‘ Oh, he has a great deal of house-property about 
there, but it consists chiefly of cottages, at a few shil- 
lings a week.” 

“Ah, but he has another large house, I don't know 
whether it is in Brent, but it is somewhere about there, 
‘The White House’ I think it is called.” 

Old Mrs. Ryder did not start, or change colour, or 
do anything in the least sensational, at the mention 
of this house. But she involuntarily conveyed to 
Nanny’s mind, as clearly as if in words, that the name 
woke in her some strong feeling. She answered at 
once, quite quietly, evidently unconscious that she 
had in any way betrayed herself. 

‘ ‘ Oh, yes ; I know the place you mean — ‘The White 
House,’ at Bicton. It is on high ground, and would 
have done very well if had been in repair. But it has 
been in a ruinous state for a great many years. ” 

“ It could be repaired, couldn’t it.? ” asked Nanny, 
curious and interested as to the reason of her com- 
panion’s emotion. 

“I suppose it could, at least, of course it could. 
But it would take a very long time, and cost a great 


RALPH RYDER OP BRENT. 


35 

deal of money. And then the grounds, which are 
large, are simply a wilderness." 

Then the old lady started another subject, and Nanny 
got no chance of learning more about “The White 
House " before her husband came in. 

Captain Ryder was dutifully affectionate in his 
manner towards his mother, but there was little 
spontaneity in his tenderness. He was naturally 
annoyed, Nanny thought, at her having spied upon 
them, as it were, before presenting herself to her 
daughter-in-law. 

“Mrs. Ryder says, Dan " began Nanny pres- 

ently. 

She was interrupted by the old lady’s soft voice. 

“Say mamma, dear." 

“Mamma says," corrected Nanny, with a smile 
and a blush, ‘ ‘ that The Grange, is in a horrid neigh- 
bourhood, and that The White House is uninhabit- 
able." 

Captain Ryder laughed. 

“You are a good deal more particular for us than 
we shall be for ourselves, mother, I expect." 

“Well, dear. The Grange, has been to let for 
years, with a great board up that has had to be re- 
painted again and again. And yet nobody has 
taken it." 

‘ ‘ 1 must run down there as soon as we get back 
to town, and see how things have been going on." 

“Do you doubt that I have done the best that 
could be done during all these years that I have had 
the overseeing of the place .? " 

There was, not unnaturally, under her habitual 
sweetness, the slightest possible tone of acerbity. 

“No, indeed, mother. But I doubt whether it was 
in agents’ human nature not to take some advantage 
of your being a sweet woman, instead of a burly, 
bullying man. " 

He was quite good-humoured, and she had not lost 
her temper. But mother and son exchanged looks 
which were not those of perfect trust. Nanny, who 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


36 

was quick-witted, watched with interest the eye-to- 
eye encounter ; and when the visitor had left for her 
own hotel, she turned to her husband with a world 
of ill-suppressed curiosity in her face. 

''Why don’t you like her better was what she 
wanted to say. ‘ ‘ I like your mother very much, ” was 
what she did say. ' ' And from the first moment, she 
wasn’t a bit unkind, as I was afraid she might be.” 

"No, my mother would never be unkind to any- 
one, ” said he shortly. 

Nanny wondered why, then, there had been this 
anxiety to avoid meeting her, this talk about her jeal- 
ousy, this constant interchange of vexatious letters. 
But to a timid question on this head, all she got in 
the way of answer was this : 

" She wants me to live abroad, and I mean to set- 
tle down in England.” 

Nanny was silenced. But she felt that the explana- 
tion was by no means either full or satisfactory. 

Captain Ryder had one more interview with his 
mother, the particulars of which he did not relate to 
his wife, to whom he merely said that he had seen 
the old lady off on her way back to London. 

" Why do you say old lady, if she is only fifty-five.? ” 
asked Nanny, who had been struck with the same 
peculiarity in the mother that she had remarked in 
the son, namely, the great difference between her 
real and her apparent age. 

"I’m sure I don’t know. She seems to me older 
than she is ; perhaps that is the reason.” 

"Yes,” said Nanny; "she looks seventy, doesn’t 
she ? ” 

Perhaps this remark reminded him that he looked 
more than his age, a rather sore point with him. At 
any rate, he answered somewhat shortly, and turned 
his wife’s attention to something else. 

Old Mrs. Ryder’s visit seemed to make a break in 
their honeymoon from which their spirits never quite 
recovered. 

When they had been in Paris three weeks. Captain 


/^ALPff RYDER OF BRENT, 


37 

Ryder suggested to his wife that, instead of carrying 
out their first plan of a visit to Italy, they should re- 
turn to London. Of course Nanny agreed to this, as 
she agreed to every proposal of her husband s ; and 
the next day they were back at the Charing Cross 
hotel. 

On the very evening of their arrival in England, 
Nanny took courage to make the suggestion that they 
should go down to Brent Grange on the following 
day and look about them. Looking grave at .once. 
Captain Ryder said that he had to go down to Aider- 
shot to see a friend who was ill there, and added that 
there was no need to hurry over it ; they had the Lon- 
don theatres to sample before they began to concern 
themselves with the cares of housekeeping. Did she 
think she would be dull to-morrow if he left her for 
the whole day ? He would be entirely at her service 
afterwards for another month of gaiety. 

“It will take quite the day to go to Aldershot and 
back,'’ he said ; “for my old regiment is there now, 
and I shan't be able to resist the temptation of letting 
everybody congratulate me. For you know I was 
a sworn old bachelor." 

Of course Nanny acquiesced in this arrangement ; so 
Captain Ryder wrote at once to his mother, asking 
her to come round on the following afternoon to take 
his wife for a drive. The next morning, having taken 
care to provide her with novels enough for a month's 
hard reading, he went through the deliciously pain- 
ful experience of a first parting from her, and started 
for Aldershot. 

With the help of her books, Nanny got through a 
couple of hours very comfortably. But it was a 
lovely day, and she was of active habits. Very soon 
the arm-chair grew too hard to be endured, the ex- 
citing adventures of the heroine became insufferably 
tedious. She longed to go out. 

So she wandered about the big, handsome, un- 
homely sitting-room, now dipping impatiently into a 
book, now looking with longing out of the window 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


38 

at the busy crowd in the streets, until a telegram 
was brought to her. 

It was from old Mrs. Ryder, who was staying with 
friends in Kensington. This was the message : 

“ Sorry cannot come this afternoon. Will call 7.45 
and take you to concert.'' 

Nanny threw the paper down, as soon as the waiter 
had disappeared upon her dignified intimation that 
there was no answer, in a fit of petulant disappoint- 
ment. She would not, could not, stay indoors all 
day. What was the use of being married, if you 
were to be shut up all day long, and not have half 
the liberty you had when you were single } A happy 
thought flashed into her mind : she would go to Bic- 
ton, and see those two houses, one of which was to 
be her home. She would be back in plenty of time 
for the concert, she thought. 

Nanny ran downstairs to the office, where a very 
young, pleasant-faced girl, the daughter of the man- 
ager of the hotel, got a “ Bradshaw " and helped her 
to find a train for Bicton. Nanny took a fancy to the 
girl, and asked her if was not dreadful to have to sit 
in the office all day long on warm days like that. 

“ Oh, no," said the girl, smiling. “ It is a pleasure 
to me. I live in the country, and am only allowed 
here for a treat now and then. It's such fun to hear 
the stories about the people who come here ; one 
hears such strange stories in hotels." 

“ Why, how can you tell much about people who 
just come and go? " 

“ One can sometimes. There’s the strangest story 
going on here now, for instance. But — perhaps I 
oughtn’t to tell you." 

“ Yes, do, do.” 

“ Well, there’s an old gentleman here now, who 
came here about three months ago with a handsome 
lady, who seemed perfectly devoted to him. And as 
for him, he didn’t seem to be able to do the least 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


39 

thing for himself ; it was always she who must help 
him. She was his nurse, she said, and the poor gen- 
tleman wasn’t exactly out of his mind, except just at 
times, when she had to bring him up to town to see 
the doctor. And she said it was the wickedness of 
his wife that had brought this upon him, and that he 
had just seen her, and he always had an attack after 
seeing her.” 

“ Poor man ! How very dreadful ! ” said Nanny 
sympathetically. “And is the nurse with him this 
time .? ” 

The young girl glanced about her mysteriously, 
and lowered her voice. 

“ No, that’s the strange part of it. He’s brought 
quite a young girl with him, who, he says, is his 
wife ! And now he is behaving just as if he was 
sane. ” 

“ Perhaps he’s cured,” suggested Nanny. 

‘ ‘ But how about the other wife, the wicked one ? ” 

“ She is dead, I expect.” 

“ But she was alive two months ago ! ” 

“ Well, he couldn’t have married again if his first 
wife wasn’t dead.” 

“ But don’t you think,” suggested the young girl 
mysteriously, “ that he may have married her in an 
interval of sanity, and forgotten that he had a wife 
already 1 It seems such a strange thing to bring the 
new wife to the hotel he came to with the nurse, 
unless his memory for the past is quite gone, doesn’t 
it .? ” 

Nanny had to admit that it did seem strange. She 
had herself no suggestion to make but that such 
things were not likely to happen. 

“ I wish the nurse would come here again, and 
explain it all,” continued the young girl, with a sigh 
of baffled curiosity. “ I saw her, for I was here the 
day they came. She was a very nice woman, and 
she talked to me and gave me her portrait. Mamma 
took it away from me, because she wanted a photo 
graph to fill one of her frames. Here it is.” 


40 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


She took from the mantelpiece a frame containing 
the photograph of a rather handsome woman with a 
very well-developed figure. 

“ I don’t think I like the face much,” said Nanny 
dubiously. “ And did you see the old gentleman 
too } ” 

“ Yes. I saw him when he came with the nurse, 
and I saw him to-day, too. Such a change in him ! 
Instead of seeming to be always brooding over some 
trouble, as he was last time, he looks as brisk and as 
happy as a boy ! ” 

“ Perhaps it ts7ii the same man, but his twin- 
brother ! ” suggested Nanny, much interested. 

“Yes, it is the same,” said the girl, shaking her 
head. ‘ ‘ Eyes, hair, voice, everything, down to the 
very pin in his tie, a little pearl acorn in a gold 
cup. ” 

“Oh, the pin is nothing. My husband has a pin 
like that.” 

“ Your husband ! ” echoed the young girl, growing 
suddenly crimson. “ Oh, are you married? I didn t 
think — at least, I thought — I mean you look so 
young ! 

She was very much disturbed, and, taking up the 
“ Bradshaw,” began hunting for a train to Bicton with 
great energy. She alarmed herself unnecessarily, 
however. Nanny was indeed musing over the story ; 
but no thought that it could have any connection 
with herself entered her head. 

“ I hope the poor young wife will never find out 
that there is anything strange — or wrong about her 
husband,” she said at last. “That would be dread- 
ful ! ” 

The young girl shot at her a quick glance of fright- 
ened compassion over the “ Bradshaw.” 

“ Yes,” she almost whispered, “ she — she would 
have to leave him, wouldn’t she ? ” 

Nanny was rather startled by this view. 

“ I don’t know,” she said slowly, with a tinge of 
deeper colour rising in her face; “she would always 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


41 


feel she was his wife. And if she loved him very- 
much ” 

Her voice trembled, and she broke off. For a 
moment she had, in all innocence, tried the case as 
her own, and found herself unable to give an answer. 
It was her turn now to find a relief in the pages of 
“ Bradshaw.” 

Luckily for Nanny’s chances of getting to Bicton 
that day, the manageress of the hotel returned at that 
moment to the office, and made the route clear to 
her. Still more luckily, Nanny, as she ran upstairs 
to get ready for her journey, did not see the look of 
horror on the face of the manageress, nor hear her 
sharp reproaches, as her young daughter confessed 
what she had been telling the guest. 

On first arriving at Bicton Station, Nanny was 
ready to hastily endorse all her mother-in-law had 
said as to the undesirability of the neighbourhood. 
In every direction she saw row after row of small, 
brand-new, contract-built houses, of that glaring red 
brick which, in conjunction with scraps of bilious 
glass let into the windows, is facetiously termed, by 
builders, “ artistic.” And there were rows of cheap 
and startling shops to correspond with the houses. 
Everywhere was a mushroom growth of that dull- 
souled poverty which loses its dignity in empty pre- 
tension. But when, following ^the direction given 
her by the second person she asked (the first had 
never heard of Brent Grange), she walked down a 
half-built street which straggled off into fields, things 
began to look brighter. 

When the last of the ** eligible modern residences ” 
was left behind, and a bit of real country road, with 
a hedge on each side, brought her to the corner of a 
little “green” surrounded by old houses, Nanny felt 
that there was hope in life. For the vulgarity of cheap 
modern improvements had scarcely yet touched the 
village of Brent. 

Nanny went straight forward by the narrow village 
green, gazing all around her in delight. Great trees 


42 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


spread their branches over the roadway. Half a 
dozen cows, munching the short grass, lazily raised 
their stupid heads and stared at her with the expres- 
sion with which an Englishman of the wealthy classes, 
whether peer or potato-merchant, stares at the stranger 
who dares to get into the same railway carriage with 
him. 

To right and left, in well-wooded gardens, and 
shut in by tall shrubs, old-fashioned houses, all of 
different shapes and sizes, seemed to show, in shabby 
paint and broken railings, a sense that their best 
days were gone by. For the well-to-do London 
tradesmen who had formerly occupied them, instead 
of driving up to business daily in a gig from Brent, 
now lived at ‘‘West ” Kensington, and went to town 
on the penny 'bus. One large white house, the tiled 
roof of which had been repaired with slates, now felt 
itself to be too humble for its elaborate cast-iron gate, 
and had therefore abandoned this stately entrance in 
favour of a modest wooden gate in the side wall. 

Before the next house to this, a plain, shabby, red- 
brick structure, with battered wooden railings, a little 
comedy was being enacted, to the great entertain- 
ment of a small group of children, a neat maid-servant 
sent out to post a letter, and a few other idlers. A 
freshly painted board announced that the house was 
to let ; and the sale of the late occupier’s goods, 
which had just taken place, indicated the unhappy 
termination of his tenancy. 

The most conspicuous figure in this scene was a 
young fellow in tennis costume who with a large soft 
felt hat tilted over his eyes, was sitting on the low 
wall beneath the broken railings, and greeting each 
piece of furniture, as it was taken out and packed 
into a cart outside, with a gentle stream of comment. 

“ Gently, gently,” he murmured, as a big comfort- 
able, but shabby chair was brought out, and bumped 
in its passage against the gate-post, ‘ ‘ that off-side 
fore-leg won’t stand much rough handling. It has 
precipitated me into the fireplace more than once.” 


I^ALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


43 

Again, as a pile of school-books were brought out 
— one or two being allowed to fall on the pathway 
he shook his head reproachfully. 

‘‘1 mustn't blame you," he said with magnanimity; 
“ Tve found them heavy myself." 

Nanny, who was standing near enough to him to 
hear all this, was puzzled but amused. Without ap- 
pearing to notice her presence, the young man was 
evidently not insensible to the fact that a beautiful 
woman, who was also a stranger, was within hear- 
ing. 

“What is it.?" asked Nanny, of the maid-servant 
with the letter. ‘ ‘ Some poor man sold up .? ” 

The girl blushed and glanced towards the gentle- 
man, who immediately rose and, raising his hat, 
showed a fairly good-looking young face, with a 
large ginger-coloured moustache. 

“Yes, madam," he said, with an air of much 
amusement, “/am the poor man." 

“Oh, I — I beg your pardon, Tm so sorry. I " 

“ You’re very good to be sorry about it, " he said 
courteously, but with great cheerfulness. “ But I 
assure you I’m not. None of these things were 
worth carting away, even if I’d had a cart, or the 
money to hire one, which I haven’t. And now these 
good people have saved me all trouble on that head. 
What they will do with the books I don’t know, for 
the people of this benighted village can’t read and 
they wouldn’t come to me to be taught how to." 

But, moved by his misfortunes and his tawny 
moustache, Nanny persisted in once more expressing 
her sorrow before she walked away. She made the 
tour of the green, which comprised the whole extent 
of the village, carefully looking about for the Grange. 

At the point of the green from which she had 
started, a high, old-fashioned brick wall, with a 
solid, projecting coping, extended for some distance 
up a road to the right ; this wall was fringed by a 
thick growth of ivy, and enclosed grounds so thickly 
wooded that no glimpse of a house could, at this time 


44 


RALPH RYDER , OF BRENT, 


of the year, be obtained from the road. Nanny 
followed the wall until it bent inwards to the unpre- 
tending- high wooden gates, flanked by two smaller 
ones, which formed the entrance. Above the wall 
and the ivy she could just see the roof and chimney 
of a small lodge. Was this interesting-looking place 
the Grange, she wondered. Still following the wall 
until, some distance further on, it turned inwards 
from the road, she espied a battered and defaced 
board, half hidden by the branches of trees, on which 
were still faintly traceable the words “To Let. Ap- 
ply to But the name was now illegible. 

This, then, must be the Grange. 

In ever-rising excitement, Nanny retraced her steps 
until she stood again before the entrance. Could she 
summon up courage enough to ring the bell and ask 
to be shown over the place .? Somebody lived there, 
evidently ; for she could see a thin line of smoke 
rising from a chimney behind the trees. But then 
who was the occupier .? A caretaker, she supposed ; 
but it was evidently a caretaker not used to being dis- 
turbed, for the board which stated that the place was 
to let would scarcely have been seen except by some- 
one who was looking for it. 

While she was thus debating within herself, one of 
the side-gates opened, and an old man, who looked 
like a gardener, came out. Something about him re- 
minded Nanny, in a vague way, of her husband ; but 
she had not then had enough experience to know that 
it was merely the similarity in carriage and bearing 
between one infantry soldier and another, however 
wide the difference of rank between them may be. 
The old man who had a hard, shrewd face, noticed 
the unmistakable look of interest in the young lady’s 
eyes, and he saluted her respectfully in passing. 
Nanny turned to him eagerly. 

‘ ‘ Can you tell me — I believe this house is to let } ” 
she said. “Could I see over it.? Does anyone live 
there .? ” 

“Yes, and no, ma’am. There’s a lady lives in it, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


45 


but she’s only there as a caretaker-like, I believe, 
though she’s been there some years now. But I’ve 
heard something about the gentleman that owns the 
house coming to live there, with the lady he’s married 
So, of course, the other one’s got to turn out.” 

“The other one!” It seemed a strange way of 
speaking. Nanny began to feel, on the one hand, 
very nervous about her rash expedition, and, on the 
other, very anxious to see this lady-caretaker, with 
whose feelings in the matter her informant seemed, 
to side. 

“ Mrs. Durrant ain’t at home just now ; he said, as 
he opened one of the little gates and ushered Nanny 
through into a paradise of luxuriant vegetation, ‘ ‘ she’s 
gone to see her brother, who’s met with a misfortune, 
poor gentleman ! But I can show you over the 
house, ma’am, and answer any questions.” 

“ And — and who are the people to apply to, about 
the rent and all that .? I couldn’t read the name on 
the board,” said Nanny, who felt bound to keep up 
the character of a house-hunter. 

‘ ‘ Oh, they’re dead, ma’am, long ago. ” 

‘ ‘ Then who do people apply to, when they come 
to look at the house .? ” 

“They don’t come to look at it, ma’am.” 

And Nanny perceived by his dry tone that she was 
found out. 

After this she followed him in silence past the lodge 
which was shut up, deserted, and in a ruinous condi- 
tion ; up a pretty winding drive under the trees 
through a garden which showed signs of care ; past 
a long line of now empty stables, built of red brick 
mellowed with age, to a large, rambling, old-fash- 
ioned house of the same warm tint with a red-tiled 
roof, gable windows, and a thick ill-trained growth 
of ivy and wisteria over the lower portions. 

“Oh, what a pretty place!” she cried, as she 
stopped short on the stone-paved yard, half over- 
grown with moss, by which they approached it from 
the side. 


46 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


‘*Yes, ma’am. And maybe Mrs. Durrant finds it 
as unpleasant to leave it like, as — as them that’s go- 
ing to take her place finds it pleasant to come into it. ” 

Nanny felt her breath coming faster. What did 
this man mean by his curious insinuations.!^ He did 
not speak in the least disrespectfully, but rather in a 
grave tone which sounded almost like one of warn- 
ing, and with the authority of a person who knew all 
the circumstances of the case. 

“You like this Mrs. Durrant very much, then.?” 
she asked in a tone which she flattered herself was 
one of complete indifference. “And perhaps you 
think she is not being very well treated ? ” 

“I’ve nothing to say against Mrs. Durrant, ma’am. 
And at the same time I’ve nothing to say against the 
family, meaning Captain Ryder and his mother, 
ma’am. It’s not likely, considering how I’ve been 
in their service nigh on forty years.” 

“ Forty years ! ” 

“Nigh on it, ma’am. And I would only suggest 
quite respectfully, ma’am, that people that have been 
in charge as long as Mrs. Durrant, why, they learn 
to know things which it’s better they should keep to 
themselves, ma’am. And I wish Captain Ryder’s 
lady — I should say Captain Ryder’s mother, ma’am, 
would see it in the same light. It would be better 
for the family, take the word of an old soldier that 
has seen the world. ” 

As he finished speaking, a rather high-pitched 
feminine voice, speaking in a fretful, complaining 
tone, reached their ears ; and the old gardener, if 
such he was, courteously invited Nanny, by a rapid 
gesture, to stand aside under the spreading boughs 
of a tall cedar. 

“Mrs. Durrant, ma’am, and her brother, Mr. Val- 
entine Eley,” said he in a low voice. 

The voice of this caretaker was that of a young 
woman ; and she was saying as she came up : 

“Well, I am going to see the Captain this evening 
and we’ll see what he says about it. ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BREHT, 


47 


Nanny looked at her, and looked again with 
her heart beating fast and her thoughts in a whirl- 
pool of bewilderment. For this Mrs. Durrant was 
the original of the photograph which had been shown 
to her at the hotel. 


48 


RALPH RYDER OF B RE NT^ 


CHAPTER IV. 

A PANG of vague suspicion shot through Nanny’s heart 
as she overheard the lady’s words; “going to see 
the Captain to-night. ” 

How came the nurse of the mad old gentleman to 
be caretaker at Brent Grange ? And who was the 
“ Captain? ” 

Retreating still further into the shade cast by the 
spreading trees, she watched Mrs. Durrant as that 
lady passed in the direction of the house. The com- 
manding ‘‘ caretaker ” was tall, and what men would 
call “a fine woman ; ” still young, but already in- 
clined to grow a little too stout, according to the 
wont of this type of beauty. Nanny did not see her 
face until Mrs. Durrant was turning to enter the 
house. Then she caught a glimpse of a handsome 
profile, with an aquiline nose and a rather tightly 
shut, small-lipped mouth. 

The person to whom she was talking was the 
young man whom Nanny had seen enjoying the sell- 
ing up of his home. He was following with his hands 
in his pockets, giving from time to time a lazy assent 
to his companion’s vehement speeches, but without 
seeming to suffer himself from any sympathetic 
emotion. 

Nanny, watching the two intently, forgot that she 
was not alone. The old man who had shown her 
into the grounds had retreated out of sight. Stepping 
forward to get a better view of the house, she heard 
a sharp voice above her, and, looking upwards, saw 
Mrs. Durrant, wearing an indignant expression of 
face, at one of the windows. 

“Valentine ! ” she was crying out ; “ there’s some- 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


49 

one trespassing in the garden. Go out and tell her 
this is private property. 

But Valentine being in no hurry to obey this man- 
date, Nanny, with her cheeks very red and her eyes 
filling with angry tears, turned to walk back towards 
the gate. As soon as there was an intervening clump 
of trees between her and the house, the old man re- 
joined her. 

“If you will wait here a few minutes, ma'am,’' he 
said, “ Mrs. Durrant is going out, and I could show 
you over the house.” 

“ Oh, no, no, thank you,” she answered vehement- 
ly. ‘ ‘ I — I don’t think this house would suit me. It’s 
— it’s too big.” 

The old gardener listened respectfully, and made 
no comment. But she knew so well that he guessed 
who she was that, not troubling to make a fresh pre- 
text, she said simply : 

“Do you know the White House at Bicton .? I 
wafit to see it.” 

“Yes, ma’am; I can show you where it is, but 
that’s about all. For it has been in a dismantled 
state many years now, and the doors has been nailed 
up to prevent the boys getting in and stealing the 
flooring for firewood. If you w^ant to go over it, 
ma’am, you’ll have to get an order from the agent, 
and he’ll have to communicate first with old Mrs. 
Ryder. ” 

“ Isn’t it a great loss of income to Captain Ryder 
to have two big houses uninhabited ? ” asked the 
young wife, with some pride in her own acumen and 
growing distrust of her mother-in-law’s powers of 
management. 

The old man gave her a sharp look. 

“Big houses aren’t wanted about here, ma’am,” 
he answered. “There’s lots more of ’em to let. 
Bicton and Brent has gone out of fashion with people 
that can afford to live in style. The place has gone 
down, ma’am.” 

Nanny had already seen for herself evidences of 
4 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


50 

the truth of this. As they went out through the gate by 
which they had entered, she gave one more fascinated 
glance up the long vista of tall elms and beeches on 
the left, through which smooth lawns, with a fringe 
of flowering shrubs, rhododendrons, laurestine, and 
the tall sword-leaves of the iris, made a most inviting 
picture. She turned suddenly to her guide. 

“This Mrs. Durrant,"' she began, “does she ever 
take in mad people.? 

The stolid face of the old gardener underwent just 
so much change as convinced Nanny that the know- 
ledge she had gained was supposed to be a secret. 
But he answered very quietly, with apparent surprise : 

“Mad people! No, ma’am. There’s nobody lives 
with her but her two servants. ” 

‘ ‘ But I know that she once had charge of a mad 
old gentleman, who got well and married,’' Nanny 
went on, with a great appearance of astuteness. 
“ Now, I don’t think Captain Ryder would be pleased 
to hear that his house had been used as a private 
asylum. ” 

A most malicious smile twinkled for an instant in 
the man’s hard eyes. 

“ I don’t know how you came to hear of it, but I 
wouldn’t mention it to the Captain, ma’am, if I was 
you,” he said drily. 

And again a pang of vague and nameless fear shot 
through Nanny’s heart. 

They were out in the road by this time, and were 
going to the left, under the old ivy-hung wall. A 
little shabby wooden door in this wall was suddenly 
opened from within, and Mrs. Durrant came out with 
a quick step and locked it behind her with one of two 
large iron keys which she carried tied together on a 
piece of string. In the other hand she held a small 
hand-bag and as she stopped to open it, and drop 
the keys inside, Nanny noticed that her face was not 
wholly hard, that she had brown eyes which betrayed 
a passionate nature, and that her mouth, when not 
compressed with anger, had curves denoting good 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


51 

nature. When she saw Nanny, whom she recognised 
as the trespasser in the Grange garden, she scowled 
and seemed inclined to address her. But noticing 
that she was accompanied by the old gardener, Mrs. 
Durrant gave him an indignant look, before turning 
up a lane nearly opposite to the gate by which she 
had come out. 

Then Nanny and her guide went steadily on towards 
the highroad, where, turning to the right, they as- 
cended the hill into the old High Street of Bicton 
itself. 

Bicton is one of those villages in the more remote 
suburbs of London which, under the rough hand of 
“modern improvement,” are rapidly losing their 
primitive picturesqueness. Among the irregularly- 
built, low-browed shops, with their thatched roofs 
and quaint chimneys, tall new buildings have shot 
up, stiff, straight, staring, and devoid of all beauty or 
interest. To the right, on the brow of the hill, a new 
church of red brick has replaced the old one ; but 
further on, for the most part deserted indeed by their late 
occupiers, a dozen pretty, stately old houses are still 
left to lament their decadence, till such time as 
the speculative builder shall come to run up rows 
of many-gabled villas of mongrel Gothic architecture, 
where the guelder-roses and lilac-bushes grow in 
clumps upon the shady lawns. Past these Nanny 
went with her guide, till the straggling houses gave 
place to open fields. Some distance along this pretty 
road she saw, a long time before they came to 'it, the 
White House. 

It was built very near the road. A plain, square, 
substantial-looking building of considerable size, 
with many small windows, most of which were fitted 
with outside shutters which had once been green, 
gave the house a rather un-English appearance — as 
if more sun had been expected to shine upon the 
place than was likely to illuminate these gray British 
skies. Such of the shutters as had not broken away 
from their hinges were closed. Most of the glass 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


52 

which was not thus protected had been broken, and 
green stains of damp showed under the eaves. The 
roof of the stables and a portion of a large conser- 
vatory, most of the glass of which appeared to be 
broken, could be seen from the road. 

The tall front gates, the only thing about the place 
which seemed to be in good repair, were fastened 
up securely. Nothing could be seen of the grounds, 
which were evidently extensive, except a forest-like 
growth of fine old trees. When they came in front 
of the gates Nanny stopped, and considered every 
detail attentively. 

“ I shouldn’t like to live there! ” burst from 'her lips. 

“That’s what everybody else feels, ma’am,” said 
the old gardener, with a grim smile, “and so it 
doesn’t get let. ” 

“ Well, they don’t seem to try to let it. It wouldn’t 
cost much to make it look better, at least. A pot of 
paint and a few nails would do something, and the 
gate might be made to open, instead of being blocked 
up as if the place were a prison. I think the sooner 
Captain Ryder takes the management of the property 
into his own hands, the better it will be for him.” 

But the old man’s face grew suddenly severe in ex- 
pression, and he shook his head warningly. 

“ Old folks’ ways seems bad ways and slow ways 
to the young like you, ma’am. But there’s some sense 
in it all, depend on it. And the world goes round 
none the worse for not going too fast. ” 

This shut-up, lonely old house interested Nanny 
even more than the picturesque Grange. Her one 
idea was now to get rid of her guide, and to try to 
force an entrance on her own account. 

“ I should like to go over it,” she said, peering 
about curiously, but without discovering any breach 
in the lofty wall by which a burglarious entrance 
could be effected. 

“There’s no way of getting in,” said the old 
gardener. “ It’s fastened up every way, as you see, 
all along of them vagabond boys.” 


kALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


53 

“ And why shouldn’t the vagabond boys enjoy it 
if they like?” said Nanny mutinously. “Nobody 
else does. And why boys, who can enjoy life so 
splendidly, should always be kept out of everything 
and treated as if they were pariahs, I never could 
understand. It would be better for them to have 
the flooring for firewood than for the rats to have it 
for food.” 

But the old man would not see things in the same 
light ; he accepted her half-crown as a hint that he 
was at liberty to leave her, and, having directed her 
back to the station, retreated respectfully with a 
lowered opinion of her judgment. 

Nanny had an idea that the old gardener — whose 
name, he had informed her, by the way, was William 
Pickering — intended to keep an eye upon her move- 
ments ; so she walked back into the overgrown 
village, found the station, and made inquiries about 
the next train to take her back to town. She had an 
hour to wait ; so she promptly started to return to 
the White House. It was not yet much past six, and 
was still quite light ; besides, her curiosity had got 
the better of her discretion. There must be some 
reason, she argued, for keeping a large house and its 
grounds in this neglected state ; indeed, Pickering, 
with his wise saws about “old folk’s ways,” had 
almost said as much. Nobody would tell her what 
this reason was, therefoVe she must try to find it out 
for herself. 

And, as she walked along, the young wife teased 
herself with a second question : What did Mrs. Durrant 
mean by her remark that she was “going to see the 
Captain to-night?” Of course she could not have 
meant Captain Ryder, Nanny’s husband ; but for all 
that it would be more satisfactory to know whom 
she did mean. This, however, Nanny felt, was 
more than she was likely to discover. 

There was no way of getting inside the grounds 
of the White House from the frontage on to the high- 
road — that was clear ; but Nanny said to herself that 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


54 

the very care with which the front gates were fastened 
up pointed to the fact that there would be a practi- 
cable entrance somewhere, by which Pickering, or 
whoever had charge of the place, could enter and 
see that the much-maligned “ boys ” had not suc- 
ceeded in storming the fortress. So she scoured the 
neighbourhood by its lanes* and by-ways until, as 
she had expected, she came upon the back wall of the 
grounds ; and following it for some hundred yards 
along a narrow footpath skirting a field of stubble, 
she at length found behind a cowshed, and almost 
hidden by hawthorn bushes a door in the wall. It 
was closed ; but Nanny's heart beat high as she saw 
in the keyhole a great iron key, from which a second 
key dangled on a piece of string. 

She had seen these keys before — in Mrs. DurranPs 
hand. 

Without a moment’s hesitation as to this rash pro- 
ceeding, Nanny pushed the door open, passed through 
into the grounds, and drew it close behind her. An 
instant later she had plunged into a thick growth of 
rank vegetation ; briars, nettles, long grass, and tall 
heads of hemlock making a dense, damp mass in which 
she struggled breast-high. This was not the garden, 
but a park-like enclosure separated from it by a wire 
fence, and suffering comparatively little from the neg- 
lect which had fallen upon the whole place. True, 
the grass grew rank and high in some places, while 
in others the earth was bare ; the paths were over- 
grown and could scarcely be traced ; broken boughs 
lay, with their dead or withering leaves, half hidden 
in the grass. 

But it was in the garden on the left, and the forlorn 
house beyond, that the decay of the place was most 
plainly to be seen. There was a wild beauty, cer- 
tainly, in the masses of laburnum, copper beech, and 
barberry trees which, all untrimmed and unrestrained, 
hung their straggling branches over clusters of peonies 
and Scotch rose-bushes, which in their turn had out- 
grown their proper proportions and thrown up weedy 


RALPH RYDER OF B RENT, 


5? 

offshoots in all directions. Everywhere the grounds 
were so well wooded that, in their present state of 
wildness, the whole place was like a corner of a 
forest. 

Through the park, however, and straight to a point 
in the wire fence where Nanny judged that, hiddci. 
by the surrounding verdure, a gate must be, she 
could see that a foot-track had been worn over beaten- 
down grass and weeds. But she did not dare to 
follow it, being afraid to come face to face with Mrs. 
Durrant, who must, she judged, be somewhere about. 
Instead, therefore, of venturing on the track, she ap- 
proached the fence by a roundabout way through 
the trees, sometimes losing sight of the house alto- 
gether, until, when quite close to the fence, she per- 
ceived, as she had expected, that she was not alone 
in the grounds. 

In the garden, some distance from where she stood, 
were two people, not yet clearly discernible to 
Nanny by reason of the intervening foliage, but suffi- 
ciently near for her to hear that one of them, a 
woman, was talking fast, in a low tone of voice. 
This, she felt sure, was Mrs. Durrant ; but who was 
her companion .? A man. So much Nanny could 
see, but for a long time that was all. 

Something much stronger than an instinct, how- 
ever, although she could not distinctly trace the source 
of her feeling, told her that she knew the man. She 
tried to strife the suggestion that rose in her mind, 
tried to tell herself that certain tricks of gait and attitude 
in the half-seen figure bore only a fancied resemblance 
to those of her husband. 

But the fear at her heart soon overmastered all 
other thoughts and emotions. She leaned over 
the wire fence till it bent under her weight, peering 
into the mass of greenery with eyes that tried not to 
see ; for the knowledge she hated was growing inevb 
table. 

After a few moments’ anxious waiting, the two 
figures moved a little, coming more into the open. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


56 

Nanny stared stupidly at them, with a perplexed 
frown upon her face. 

The woman was indeed Mrs. Durrant ; and just as 
surely the man with her was Captain Ryder. What 
did it mean .? 

Something in their gestures and bearing, as the two 
sauntered slowly in and out among the trees, told her 
that they were used to these strolls ; the woman's hand 
seemed to find by habit rather than by sight the 
bunches of reddening barberries which she gathered 
as she passed. As for Captain Ryder, with his erect 
carriage, long gray moustache, and curly gray hair, 
he was an unmistakable figure. 

If Nanny had dared, she would have climbed over 
the railing and met them, pretending to see nothing 
very wrong or surprising in the incident of their meet- 
ing. But she felt that she would not be able to carry 
off the encounter with the self-possession she wished 
to show ; for the story she had heard at the hotel ran in 
her head — a jumble of facts which she found it, at that 
moment, impossible to disentangle or to understand. 

While she was standing thus, in miserable doubt and 
anxiety, plucking nervously at the little straight leaves 
of a yew-tree which formed one of a group in which 
she was half buried, she heard the door in the wall, 
by which she had entered, creak on its hinges. By 
moving back a few paces, and pushing aside the sweep- 
ing branches of a willow-tree, Nanny was able to see 
who it was that had come in. The intruder was Mr. 
Valentine Eley, who walked along the trodden track to 
the wire fence, then strolled beside it in the direction 
of the spot where Nanny was standing with his eyes 
fixed on his sister and her companion, and at last 
stopped short and whistled. Mrs. Durrant turned im- 
mediately, and, seeing who the intruder was, at once 
ran to the fence. Brother and sister were near enough 
to Nanny for her to hear the conversation which passed 
between them. 

“ What business have you in here ? ” 

“ Oh, my dear child, don’t excite yourself ! I haven’t 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


57 

come to disturb your iete-a-iete. Tve just met Picker- 
ing, and he says the pretty girl with the blue eyes and 
the big gray straw hat is young Mrs. Ryder, and that 
she’s come down here to look about her. That’s 
all.” 

“Well, and what does that matter to me?” asked 
the lady sharply. 

“ Oh, nothing — nothing at all, of course. I apolo- 
gise for having brought you to listen to anything so 
trivial.” He was provokingly cool ; and she, in spite 
of her assumption of indifference, was disturbed. 

‘ ‘ Where is she now, this woman ? Is she about 
still ? ” asked Mrs. Durrant, after a pause, in a vixenish 
tone. 

‘ ‘ Gone back to the station, Pickering said. What 
did you want with her ? ” 

“I should have liked to get a good look at her, 
that is all, and to see whether she looks as if she has 
any brains.” 

Valentine shook his head decidedly. 

‘ ‘ I should think not, ” he said briefly. “Too pretty. 
Plays tennis, I’ll swear ; and thinks Browning’s 
poetry, and Wagner’s music, and Madame Somebody 
or other’s bonnets, and strawberries and cream, all 
‘ quite too charming.’ Tm in love with her. I shall 
have to shoot her husband.” 

“You had much better save your shot for yourself 
and me. What have we to live upon if I am turned 
out?” 

‘ ‘ Why, a secret which ought still to be worth bread 
and cheese to us both, my dear.” 

“ How coarse you are ! ” 

“No, how honest. Silence is said to be golden 
— and it is, besides, our only capital. Let us, then, 
get its fair value. I don’t wish any harm to anybody, 
and least of all to the good people at whose expense 
you, my dear, have been pretty comfortable for 
so long. Still, I wish to put off starvation for you 
(and for me, too, for that matter) as long as possible. 
Therefore I say that the Captain must be worked 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


58 

upon, and the old lady made to ' stump up/ Excuse 
the vulgarity of the expression. I perceive that you 
shudder. It is but homely English for " afford pecu- 
niary assistance. 

Mrs. Durrant gave a deep sigh. 

I wish I’d never come near the people," she said 
impatiently. “ Though I am really fond of the Cap- 
tain — I am indeed — quite as fond, in my way, as his 
wife is.” 

“ I am sure of it, dear,” said Valentine easily. 
“ And all this time he is wondering what has become 
of you. Go back at once with my apologies. Or, if 
you like, I’ll take them myself.” 

He made a feint of getting over the wire fence, but 
Mrs. Durrant pushed him back. 

“ No, no,” she said impatiently ; “ when will you 
learn to keep in the background until you are wanted .? 
The sight of you would only irritate him.” 

“ I don’t see how the sight of me could possibly 
have an irritating effect on anybody ! ” exclaimed her 
brother plaintively. 

But he obeyed her wish without further opposition, 
and began to stroll back in a leisurely fashion towards 
the gate by which he had entered the grounds. Mrs. 
Durrant went back across the shaggy lawn, as fast 
as she could, in the direction of the spot where she 
had left Captain Ryder. 

Nanny was shaking like a leaf in the wind. A 
dozen times during the course of this conversation, 
which had been carried on very rapidly, and in too 
low a tone for her to catch more than the sense of it, 
she had been on the point of interrupting the speakers 
with a passionate outcry. But her fear of confronting 
a jealous virago, or of sinking to the same level in her 
excitement, a dread of what they were going to say 
next, and yet a burning curiosity to hear it — all helped 
to keep her silent until they had separated ; leaving 
her, half stunned, in the lengthening shadow of the 
old yew-trees. 

It was no longer possible for Nanny to doubt that 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


59 

the story she had heard at the hotel concerned her 
husband. He had been subject to fits of insanity, and 
Mrs. Durrant, the “ caretaker,” had been his nurse. 
It was a dreadful thing to learn, but in Nanny, full of 
young love, and hope, and loyalty, the circumstance, 
confirmed as it was by his mother’s hints, awoke 
more tender pity than fear. He was cured ; or, if 
his malady should ever return upon him, was not she, 
his wife, by his side to exorcise the evil spirit by her 
loving care ? 

The inexperienced woman of twenty was less 
troubled by this than by jealousy — retrospective jeal- 
ousy of that first wife, of whom she had never heard 
from him, and actual jealousy of this woman — this 
nurse — whom he visited in secret. The suggestion 
of the girl at the hotel, that the first wife was still alive, 
did not now occur to her. Nor, if she had thought 
of it, would it have troubled her. Not even a man 
who had been insane could forget such a circumstance 
as the fact that he had a wife living. 

Nanny stared at Mrs. Durrant as the latter ran 
through the long grass, but she could no longer 
see her. The waving branches of the trees seemed 
to form a thick veil before her eyes, shutting out the 
scene. 

Why did the woman come to meet Dan here, instead 
of receiving him at Brent Grange, where she lived } 

The poor child stumbled back through the long 
grass to the door in the wall by which she had entered. 
Just as she reached it, it occurred to her to wonder 
whether Valentine Eley was outside waiting for his 
sister. The thought only made her pause for an in- 
stant. If he should see her, what did she care .? But 
there was no one outside, and she went quickly along 
the road to the station without incident of any kind. 
This walk was a great relief to her, so was the fact 
that the train was crowded, and that during part of 
the journey she had to stand. 

It was not until she reached the hotel, and it sud- 
denly dawned upon her with what different feelings 


6o 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


she was returning from those with which she had left 
it, that she began to understand the force of the shock 
she had received. The blood rushed into her head 
and throbbed in her temples as she stopped at the foot 
of the stairs, afraid to go up, afraid to face her hus- 
band. At that moment she heard the soft voice of 
old Mrs. Ryder addressing her from the top of the 
staircase. 

‘ ‘ Ah, my dear child, IVe been waiting for you for 
ever so long ! The concert began at eight, and it is 
now nearly half-past.’’ 

With sudden agility Nanny ran up the stairs, and 
looked down at her mother-in-law with a white, pas- 
sionate face. It is in human nature to be glad to 
find a scapegoat, and she had found one. 

‘ ‘ I want to speak to you, ” she said, scarcely above 
her breath. The old lady began to tremble violently, 
and her withered lips shook with fear. 

For she saw that Nanny had found out something. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


6i 


CHAPTER V. 

Nanny opened the door of the sitting-room, and ushered 
her mother-in-law in with a quiet deliberation which 
astonished the elder woman, and disconcerted her a 
little. A young woman all tears and threatening hy- 
sterics would have been more easily managed, because 
more comprehensible. The old lady recovered her 
self-possession in a moment, and, taking Nanny’s 
hands in hers, looked up into her face solicitously, 
and told her she looked pale. 

“ I dare say I do,” said Nanny. “ I’m tired. I’ve 
been to Bicton.” 

A tinge of colour came into the elder lady’s withered 
cheeks. But if the news agitated her, this was the 
only sign she gave of the fact. Drawing Nanny gently 
with her, she sat down on a sofa and made her com- 
panion do the same. 

“Come and tell me all your adventures then, my 
dear,” she said, with effusive interest. “ I do wish, 
though, that you had waited for me to go with you. 
I could have shown you so much more of the place 
than you could see by yourself.” 

“ I don’t think so,” said Nanny. “ For, after all, 
the only things there of interest to me were the Grange 
and the White House. And I saw them both.” 

“Well, and what did you think of the Grange ? ” 

“ It is a beautiful house — from the outside. I did 
not go over it. I was more interested in the White 
House.” 

‘ ‘ But you could not go over that. It’s shut up 
altogether.” 

‘ ‘ I went into the grounds. ” Under the close watch 
which was kept upon her the elder lady could not hide 


62 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


the fact that these words startled her. ‘ ‘ And I saw 
a meeting there, which seemed strange to me. ” Nanny 
was speaking now very slowly, on purpose to observe 
the effect which her words had upon her companion. 
“ It was between the caretaker at the Grange, Mrs, 
Durrant, and — my husband.” 

Nanny detected no surprise in her mother-in-law’s 
face, but some annoyance, and even more fear. 

‘ ' Dan ! ” she cried, after a moment’s pause. ‘ ‘ But 
how could that be } Dan has gone to Aldershot, I 
thought you said.” 

“He told me he was going to Aldershot. But he 
did not go there. He went to Bicton instead. I saw 
him with my own eyes,” insisted the young wife with 
emphasis. 

Old Mrs. Ryder, though still evidently somewhat 
disturbed, shook her head with a light laugh. 

“It could not have been Dan,” she said. “He 
never deceived me, his mother, in anything ; there- 
fore nothing is less likely than that he would deceive 
his wife, and a wife whom he adores too ! And to 
whom he has not been married six weeks.” 

“That is what I thought at first,” murmured poor 
Nanny in a trembling voice, while the tears welled 
up into her eyes. 

‘ ‘ Depend upon it, ” broke in the other with authority, 
“ it was your eyes and not your husband, that deceived 
you. You must have seen this man in the distance, 
and your fears must have helped you to see a resem- 
blance which, on near inspection, you would have 
found not to exist at all.” 

Nanny wavered for a moment. She would have 
been so glad to believe this. But a fresh, a stronger 
proof than that of her eyes suddenly recurred to her. 

“She called him Captain Ryder,” whimpered the 
poor child. 

There was a pause. Old Mrs. Ryder felt the shock 
of this proof as strongly as she did, and grew white 
to the lips. 

“You misunderstood,” said she at last. “When 


kALPH RYDEk OF BRENT. 63 

Dan returns he will tell you that he has been to Aider- 
shot to-day, and not to Bicton. ’ 

“ He will tell me so, no doubt. Both you and he 
have told me things which are not true ; and, because 
I am young and inexperienced, you think I am going 
to believe them in spite of the evidence of my own 
eyes and ears.” 

‘ ‘ What things have we told you which are not true .? ” 
asked old Mrs. Ryder, growing quieter as her compan- 
ion grew more excited. 

“You both told me there was no secret, no mys- 
tery, connected with your family. But there is a mys- 
tery, there is a secret, and, inexperienced though I 
may be, I mean to find it out. As for your caretaker, 
this Mrs. Durrant, she is what they call an adven- 
turess. I have found that out already And you 
have a reason for keeping her there.” 

Nanny rose, and, out of breath from the rapidity 
with which she had poured forth this indictment, stood 
looking at her mother-in-law with an expression of 
face which clearly said : Deny this if you can. But 
the old lady saw that denial was useless. She hesi- 
tated, listened for some minutes in silence to Nanny’s 
quick breathing, and then tried to temporise. 

“I don’t deny, my dear child,” she then began in 
her softest voice, “that there is a little bit of a secret 
(it is certainly not of importance enough to be called 
a mystery) about — about the property down there. 
But it concerns myself entirely, I give you m)'- word 
of honor, and has nothing to do with Dan. Will you 
take my assurance — my oath if you like — and promise 
mot to say a word about it to my son } ” 

“ No,” replied Nanny decidedly. “ I can’t promise 
that.” 

“Not if 1 assure you the secret merely concerns 
some money difficulties I have got into, through ex- 
travagant management of the estate.? Would you 
betray an old woman to her son.?” 

“But, mamma, why do you make up all these 
stories to me, when 1 tell you I know something. I 


64 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 

know,” and the young wife’s voice dropped to a tone 
of sadness, as she hesitated for a moment to go on, 
“ I know that poor Dan — was ill once, and — and not 
able to understand things clearly, and that this Mrs. 
Durrant was his nurse. And, you know, you your- 
self have said things about life in India, and its effects 
on men of nervous temperament ’’ 

She stopped. Old Mrs. Ryder, whose face had 
lighted up with an expression of intense interest, 
turned to her suddenly. 

“ You mean that he — Dan — my son — has been — 
insane— mad ? ” 

Nanny shuddered at the words. 

“Oh no ; not that exactly — but ” 

The old lady slipped down to her knees in front of 
Nanny, and clasped the hands of the young wife in a 
fierce grip. Her eyes seemed suddenly to have re- 
gained the brilliancy of youth, her fingers the strength 
of a girl. 

“You are right, you are right!” she whispered 
earnestly. “ I don’t know how you learned it, but it 
is true. And don’t you see, child, ‘ ‘ she went on ear- 
nestly, peering into the face of the other, “that, this 
being so, you must never give a hint of the fact to 
him ? And that you should, by every means in your 
power, dissuade him from settling in a place which 
has such melancholy associations for him ? ” 

“What 1” cried Nanny in alarm. “Was it at the 
White House that he lived when ” 

“ Hush 1 ” interrupted the mother. “ Ask no ques- 
tions about that time. Be satisfied with what I have 
told you.” 

But a fresh trouble occurred to Nanny. 

“I heard,” she said in a trembling voice, “that 
Dan had been married before. If this is true I ought 
to have been told of it.” 

“ It is not true. There is not a word of truth in it,” 
asserted her mother-in-law energetically, but with a 
sudden break in her voice. 

Nanny got up, crossed the room, and began to 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


65 

look out of the window farthest from her mother-in- 
law. But if this was intended as a hint to the latter 
to go, it was a useless one. They remained silent, 
the one at the window and the other on the sofa, 
until the clock struck ten. A few minutes later Cap- 
tain Ryder’s step was heard in the corridor outside. 

He entered quickly, and it was clear that his wife 
was queen of his thoughts. 

“My darling! My darling, where are you?” he 
cried at once, in a low voice ringing with affection. 

They did not use the gas, from a dislike of Nanny’s 
to that means of illumination. Four candles stood 
on the table between the door and the window at 
which the young wife was standing. Therefore the 
first person Captain Ryder saw was his mother, and 
at sight of her his tone changed suddenly. 

“You here, mother ? ” he said, not unkindly, though 
without much warmth. 

“Yes, my son. You wrote to me, you know, 
asking me to take Nanny out.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, yes, to be sure I did. I — I had forgotten. 
Is she in her room ? ” 

Nanny came forward and met him as he was cross- 
ing to the folding-doors, after having given his mother 
a somewhat perfunctory kiss. 

“Why, child! what is the matter?” he asked in 
alarm. 

For he detected, on the instant, a change in her 
manner towards him, and he glanced with a slight 
frown at his mother, as if he thought this was her 
doing. 

“Nothing,” she answered in a constrained voice. 
“ 1 hope you have enjoyed yourself — at Aldershot.” 

“Well, yes — in a way I did. But I confess I don’t 
find very much to enjoy now anywhere without you.” 
“Oh!” 

This was not a hard, ironical interjection. It was 
rather a little, timid, embarrassed bleat thrown out 
helplessly instead of an answering comment. Cap- 
tain Ryder was astonished. He looked again, angrily, 

5 


66 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


at his mother, who came forward with little hands 
stretched out before her, and pretty purring ways. 

“She is tired to death, this poor child,” said the 
elder lady, putting one hand caressingly on Nanny’s 
arm. “We may as well tell you all about it, and 
you will be able to tell her in return that she is a 
fanciful little goose. But, remember, Dan, if she 
were not so fond of you, dear, she wouldn’t take such 
fancies into her pretty head. ” 

“What fancies.? What is all this long preamble 
about .? ” 

Nanny freed herself with quick movements from 
both mother and son. 

“ I — I went to Bicton to-day,” she burst out hur- 
riedly — “ by myself,” she added quickly, as again he 
glanced with a frown at his mother ; “and I saw, or 
thought I saw, you there. ” 

“ Well .? ” 

“ Talking to a — a woman ! ” 

“I was there, and I was talking to a woman. 
What then .? ” 

Nanny felt confused. She put her pretty hands up 
to her forehead. What then, indeed .? But she was 
not satisfied. Indeed, she only knew what she had 
known before. She had, however, no answer ready. 
It was old Mrs. Ryder who broke the momentary 
silence which followed. 

“Nanny thought, dear, that you might have told 
her you were going to Bicton, or have waited until 
you could go with her. She is just as much interested 
in her new home as you, you see. I think some 
such thought as that was passing through the little 
mind ; eh, dear .? ” 

And again the caressing hand, which Nanny sud- 
denly began to feel that she hated, was passed 
soothingly, and it seemed to her warningly, down 
her arm. 

“Was that it, Nanny?” asked Captain Ryder very 
gravely. 

“N — not exactly,” said the young wife, flushing 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 67 

deeply as she raised her face, but with her eyes still 
cast down. She was an honest, truthful girl, not 
given to petty deceits ; and although she stood some- 
what in awe of her husband, she was determined to 
tell him the truth, “I — was — ^jealous.” 

“Jealous!” Captain Ryder laughed almost con- 
temptuously ; “I shouldn’t have thought it possible.” 

Again his mother broke in : 

“ Don’t scold her, Dan. It is all over now, 
and ” 

Captain Ryder interrupted her rather sharply. 

“Scold her.? Scold Nanny.? Why, mother, what 
are you about putting such a notion into her head ? 
I think you must know me well enough to be sure 
that to scold a loving woman, or a woman I love, is 
as impossible to me as it is to every other creature 
above the level of a brute I ” 

“ I beg your pardon, dear ; I did not mean ” 

Her tone was very humble, very contrite ; but this 
fact apparently irritated her son, who found it hard 
to keep all annoyance out of his tone as he inter- 
rupted her again : 

“Listen, mother. You know I have not been to 
Brenton or Bicton since I was a little boy — a baby, I 
believe — and that I have left the management of the 
property there — at your request, mind — altogether in 
your hands. I go down there to-day for the first 
time, find two big, handsome houses there, not only 
untenanted but neglected — although I have been short 
of money for years — and I say nothing harsher to you 
than this bare statement of facts. Now, if I were the 
bully you are trying to make me out, should I be so 
lenient .? ” 

Captain Ryder spoke, indeed, quite kindly. His 
mother looked guiltily at the floor. 

“ It is very difficult to let houses of any size about 
there. The neighbourhood has gone down so much 
lately,” she said, with some sign of suppressed 
emotion in her voice. “ But — but you will be glad 
to hear that I have heard of a possible tenant for the 


68 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


White House. Of course I must make inquiries 
about the person. But if they are satisfactory you 
will no longer be saddled with a single unlet house — 
that is, if you are determined to live at Brent. ” 

‘ ‘ Quite determined, said he simply. 

She rose to go, and, having embraced her daughter- 
in-law, suffered Dan to escort her downstairs to the 
little victoria which, in spite of fallen fortunes, she 
always kept at her disposal when in town. 

When Captain Ryder returned to his wife, he found 
h^r standing by the table, quietly waiting for him, 
with no pretence of being occupied. 

Dan,” she cried, as soon as his arms touched her, 
“I’m not satisfied. It is of no use to pretend that I 
am. What made you go to Bicton at all to-day ? 
You said you would go with me.” 

“I didn’t mean to go there at all, dear, to-day,” 
he answered, with a look of anxiety and annoyance, 
the result of the interview with his mother, still on 
his face. “ I meant, as you know, to stay at Aider- 
shot all day, and dine at mess with the — th. Well, 
two of my old friends were away ; and what with 
the disappointment of not seeing them, and the un- 
easiness I always feel away from you, child, the day 
was a beastly failure, and I came straight off after 
luncheon. But remembering in the train that I had 
told my mother to take you for a drive, I got out at 
Clapham Junction, thinking I would run down and 
have a look at the place we are to live in. Now, if 
my mother hadn’t been talking to you, what would 
you have seen suspicious in that } ” 

‘ ‘ But, Dan, I heard that Mrs. Durrant, the care 
taker, as your mother calls her, say she was going 
to meet you. And then, what did you want that long 
interview with her in the garden for ? ” 

“ I had plenty to ask her about the house. And if 
you saw me with her, as you say, I don’t think my 
demeanour towards her can have caused you much 
jealousy. If she said she expected to see me to-day, 
it must have been simply that she had heard I was 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

in England, and supposed I should come down at 
once.” 

“But she is so — so good-looking, Dan ! If she had 
been ugly, I should have thought nothing of it,” con- 
fessed the young wife. “Or — next to nothing,” she 
corrected, remembering the secret. 

“She was a pretty woman, certainly,” admitted 
Captain Ryder at once. “But there isn’t in the world 
a woman pretty enough for you to be jealous of, my 
darling. Remember that, once for all.” 

He spoke so peremptorily that Nanny was rather 
frightened, especially as his manner betrayed a cer- 
tain preoccupation of mind, such as she had never 
before noticed in him. When he perceived that she 
was watching him furtively, as, indeed, the poor 
child could not help doing, he recalled his wandering 
attention with a strong and evident effort, and de- 
voted himself to her for the rest of the evening with 
an assiduity which disarmed her vague fears. 

And yet, at the bottom of her heart there remained, 
whenever for a few moments he was not talking to 
her, the inevitable uneasiness which could not but 
follow her discoveries of that day. It seemed to her 
now that the consciousness of having what he be- 
lieved to be secrets from her was growing heavy 
upon him. Yet she dared not confess she knew them. 
That he had had a former wife, that his mind had 
been affected, oh ! she could never venture upon for- 
cing his confidence upon such points as these ! And 
then Dan would turn to her with looks and words of 
tenderness again, and the questions and the doubts at 
her heart would fade away. 

The next day was one of almost perfect bliss for 
Nanny, for her husband gave her five pounds to spend 
as she liked, and took her out shopping. She had 
never in her life before had so much money, except 
burdened with the condition that it was “ to last ” ; 
and no millionaire ever felt so conscious of the power 
that wealth gives as this young wife, as she hovered 
before the windows of the bonnet-shops, all her ener- 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


70 

gies concentrated upon the choice of high brim or 
low brim, gray straw with marguerites, or black 
chip with poppies. Both husband and wife were 
glad to forget for a time the small annoyances and 
apprehensions connected with their settling down at 
The Grange ; and neither Brent, nor Bicton, nor old 
Mrs. Ryder was mentioned by them in the course of 
that day. 

On the following morning, however, both felt that 
there was a business before them which must be taken 
in hand, and Captain Ryder suggested, during break- 
fast, that they had better mafc their way down to 
Bicton at once. 

“And get it over,” he added. 

“Yes,” said Nanny. 

They felt that old Mrs. Ryder's management, or 
mismanagement, had made the subject an unpleasant 
one. 

“ Supposing we don’t go to live there at all, Dan.? ” 
suggested Nanny, who was weakly afraid of Mrs. 
Durrant and her ugly suggestions. 

“ Supposing we have no choice,” said he. “There 
we can live rent free, you know, if the house should 
prove habitable. And I' suppose it is, or this Mrs. 
What’s-her-name ” 

“Durrant,” put in Nanny, with a hot blush, 
wishing he had not thus affected scarcely to know 
her. 

“ This Mrs. Durrant couldn’t have lived there. At 
any rate, we’ll go and interview the lady, and perhaps 
it will all pass off more pleasantly than we could have 
hoped. ” 

He did not disguise the fact that he felt nervous 
about the visit, and he seemed anxious and preoc- 
cupied on the way down. As for Nanny, she was 
excited and curious about the meeting with Mrs. Dur- 
rant, who might, she felt, have some unpleasant 
communications to make in her anger at having to 
leave The Grange. 

“Shall you tell Mrs. Durrant to-day for certain that 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


71 

we are going to move in?” asked Nanny, as they 
were walking from Bicton Station. 

“Certainly. But she knows it already. I shall 
tell her the date. I shall say the last week in Oc- 
tober. That will give her a month. ” 

“ How came such a smart-looking person to con- 
sent to act just as caretaker ? ” asked Nanny, not 
without a feeling that she was on dangerous ground. 

“I’m sure I don’t know. It was my mother’s do- 
ing,” answered Dan shortly. 

They had reached the pretty old wall. Between 
the branches of the trees, now thinning a little in the 
autumn breezes, the tall chimneys of the house could 
just be seen by eyes which knew where to look for 
them. The noonday sun streamed, bright and warm, 
on red wall, hanging ivy, and dusty road. The row 
of new vermilion semi-detached Gothic-church-cum- 
Swiss-chalet villas on the opposite side of the way 
glared in the heat. They reached the heavy gates, 
and rang the bell. 

Again and again they rang, but there was no an- 
swer. They tried the side doors ; they were locked. 
Captain Ryder, who said very little, began to grow 
angry ; Nanny felt anxious and disturbed. At last a 
small boy from the village, with a Basket on his arm 
and a half-devoured apple in his hand, came by, sat 
down on the gate which led into a paddock opposite, 
and looked at them. He offered no remark, however, 
and, having finished his apple, was passing on, when 
it occurred to Nanny to interrogate him. 

“Can you tell me how to make the people in the 
house hear? ” she asked. “ We want to get in.” 

“You* can’t make ’em ’ear,” replied the young 
gentleman simply. “They’ve gone.” 

Captain Ryder turned upon him, not without sav- 
agery. 

“ Then why couldn’t you say so before ? ” 

‘ ‘ ’Cause you didn’t ask me. ” 

Nanny wanted to laugh, but her husband was so 
angry that she didn’t dare to. 


72 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


“ Well, can you tell us any way of getting in ? 

“Yes. You can go along the road till the wall 
ends, and then get over the rail and into the field, 
and go along under the wall.. And then when you 
gets' to the back you can go along by the wall again 
till you comes to a hole in it. And then you can get 
through. IVe often got through that way after birds’ 
nests, and everybody’s been through that way this 
- morning. ” 

There was no resisting the impulse to laugh now, 
and Nanny gave way to her merriment until the tears 
came into her eyes, so that in the end her husband 
was perforce obliged to join her. Much against the 
latter’s will, they were compelled to follow the boy’s 
directions, and, skirting the wall, they soon found 
themselves at the breach he had described. This 
was a gap caused in the first place by the fall of an 
old tree. Having been left unrepaired, marauding 
boys had taken care, by removing the bricks one by 
one, to make it more convenient for themselves, until 
there was now an opening wide enough to enter by 
without much difficulty. The boy with the basket, 
being apparently a gentleman of means with time on 
his hands, had followed them for the excitement of 
seeing them climb through. 

“They haven’t gone away,” exclaimed Nanny, as 
she mounted into the aperture. “ I see a lot of people 
— one, two, three, four — ^playing lawn-tennis.” 

“That’s only Bambridges,” explained the boy. 

“ Bambridges ” seemed to be making themselves 
at home. On a beautiful wide lawn, sheltered on all 
sides by big trees, three young girls and one young 
man were playing tennis with great vigour and enjoy- 
ment, making the old place ring with merry young 
voices. Nanny and her husband watched them for 
some minutes, admiring the pretty picture they made, 
in their light dresses, amongst the trees. At last, 
however, the young man caught sight of the intruders, 
just as Nanny had sprung to thp ground and her hus- 
band was proceeding to follow her. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


73 

“Hallo!’' he cried imperiously, “this is private 
property, you know. You’re trespassing.” 

‘ ‘ And pray what are you doing, then t ” asked Cap- 
tain Ryder. 

“ Oh,” was the ready answer, “we’re in charge.” 

A ripple of suppressed laughter from the girls 
showed what substance of truth was in this state- 
ment. Captain Ryder, followed by Nanny, who 
hoped he would not be too cruel to these delightfully 
impudent intruders, stepped into the midst of the 
group. 

“You soon will be in charge if you don’t take 
yourselves off, ” said he, with assumed ferocity. ‘ ‘ I’m 
the owner of this place.” 

The effect of this announcement was instantaneous 
and awful. As for the girls, their very racquets grew 
limp in their hands. One, the prettiest, seemed to 
feel the policeman’s hand already on her shoulder, 
and was trying to flee, while a more sedate sister 
detained her forcibly, and murmured incoherent 
apologies. The young fellow, who was evidently 
their brother, tried to keep up a bold front. 

“What proof can you give us that you are the 
owner?” he asked haughtily. 

But his sisters with one accord rose and fell upon 
him, metaphorically of course, and filled the air with 
apologies, some meek, some vehement, for his con- 
duct and their own. 

“And if you like to send him to prison, you can, 
and it will only serve him right, ’’ added the plainest 
but most vivacious looking of the girls. 

“Thank you,” said her brother, with a vicious look. 

He was a bright-faced lad of twenty or so with 
pleasant eyes full of mischief. 

One of his sisters, clearly the eldest of the party, 
had by this time recovered sufficient composure to 
give a coherent explanation of their presence. 

“We are very, very sorry for ” 

“ Having been caught,” interpolated the vivacious 
sister.” 


74 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


The other went on; “For our intrusion. But the 
caretaker left the house yesterday, and — 

“And we didn’t expect you to come so soon.” 

“And our tennis-lawn is such a miserable one, so 
small, and without any shade, that our brother ” 

“ That’s right, put it all on to me ! ” 

'‘Suggested that we should have just one game in 
here.” 

“And the temptation was so great that, being 
daughters of Eve, we fell,” finished up the vivacious 
one. 

Their spirits were rising all round as, looking from 
the half-smiling owner to his wholly smiling wife, the 
young people saw that they were forgiven. 

“Well, you must own that you have committed a 
very serious offence. And, therefore, to punish you, 
I insist that you all remain here playing tennis, pris- 
oners on parole, while my wife and I go over another 
house we have at Bicton.” 

“If you mean the place they call The White 
House,” said one of the girls, “I don’t think you can 
go over it now, for it has just been let to a gentleman 
who came in yesterday.” 

Husband and wife stared at each other in amaze- 
ment. The tenant came in yesterday ! And it was 
in a ruinous state the day before? Who could this 
singular gentlemen be ? 

As quickly as they could, they took leave of their 
amusing trespassers, and started off for The White 
House in search of an explanation. 

They had scarcely got outside the walls, by the 
same means by which they had entered them, how- 
ever, when Nanny, who had gone on ahead, while 
her husband lingered to disperse an admiring knot of 
small boys, had her attention attracted by the sight of 
a bent old man who, leaning against the wall as if he 
had received a blow, was gazing at Captain Ryder 
with eyes that seemed to start out of his head. He 
did not notice Nanny, but holding one hand to his 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


75 

side, kept mumbling and muttering to himself as she 
approached. 

‘ ‘ Lord save us ! Lord save us ! ” he quavered, 
while beads of sweat stood on his forehead. “Its 
the Captain ; it’s himself ; it’s no ghost. Lord save 
us ! A murderer can’t rest in his grave ; can’t rest — 
so they say, so they say. And there he is, sure 
enough, the very man I buried with my own hands 
twenty-nine years ago ! ” 

A great sob of terror burst from Nanny’s lips and 
drew the old man’s attention to herself. His mouth 
closed with a sudden snap, and as Captain Ryder ran 
up to join his wife, the aged labourer bent his head 
over his stick with a mumbled word of supplication 
to Heaven. 


76 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


CHAPTER VI. 

Captain Ryder, as he came up to his wife, looked at 
her pale face and frightened eyes with astonishment 
and alarm. 

“ What is the matter, child.? Are you ill .? Has 
anything startled you ? ” 

Nanny shook her head, trying to laugh, though the 
effort was not a very successful one. She slipped her 
arm through her husband s and walked along, leaning 
on him for support. Then she told the truth though 
not the whole truth. 

‘ ‘ An old man — that old fellow who was leaning on 
his stick under the wall, began muttering and mum- 
bling. And for the moment it startled me. No, no ; 
don’t speak to him,” she went on, as Captain Ryder 
turned quickly to look at the man ; “he didn’t mean 
to frighten me. He is childish, I expect.” 

And Nanny told herself that this was the true ex- 
planation of the old labourer’s alarming words ; but 
as she walked on with her husband towards The 
White House, she wished with all her heart that he 
had not resolved to settle in Brent. 

In twenty minutes they reached the deserted man- 
sion. 

The broken shutters had been thrown open, and a 
man was at work repairing the broken glass of the 
windows, and another was on the roof replacing some 
dislodged slates. These appeared to be the only 
changes consequent upon the letting of the house. 
The carriage gates, as the growth of grass and weed 
about them plainly showed, had not been disturbed, 
the workmen passing in and out by a little gate of 
ornamental iron-work which stood in the wall to 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


77 

the right of the house. This gate, also, had been 
disused for so many years that a tangle of shrubs 
had grown close up to it on the inner side, thrusting 
their boughs through into the roadway, so that the 
neighbours had been accustomed to help themselves 
freely to sprays of lilac and laburnum in the spring, 
and to sprigs of holly in the winter. A passage had 
now been roughly made by tearing up a couple of 
these bushes by the roots. By the side of these, a 
plasterer’s boy now kept watch and ward, throwing 
handfuls of gravel from time to time, to scatter the little 
crowd of curious children who gathered round the 
gate, much interested in the lively doings at the great 
house they had always seen shut up and deserted. 

The boy seemed puzzled how to deal with the two 
grown-up visitors. He had been told not to let any- 
one pass, he said. A sixpence, however, was more 
effectual than an assurance from Captain Ryder that 
he was the owner of the house. 

“ He had been told,” the boy said, “that the house 
belonged to an old lady.” 

Having succeeded in overcoming the boy’s scruples, 
the next thing was to get up to the house. This was 
not easy, for the way to the front door was blocked 
not only by more overgrown shrubs and straggling 
plants, but by the ladders and planks and pots of the 
workmen. When at last they had stumbled to the 
front door, which was open, there was another diffi- 
culty in the fact that there was no knocker, and that 
the bell wouldn’t ring. 

“ Of course,” said Captain Ryder, “the gentleman 
who has taken the place in such a hurry cannot have 
come in yet. So we shall be doing no harm if we 
go in and look about for somebody to tell us some- 
thing. ” 

Now, Nanny had her doubts about this view ; but 
not liking to put her suspicion into words, she followed 
her husband without comment. They passed through 
a wide and handsome hall, which Nanny observed 
was partly furnished. Old mats, a chair or two, and 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


78 

a hatstand which now held the workmen’s coats, all 
looked as if they had been here for many years. A 
strange discovery this, in a house supposed to be 
abandoned ! 

Dan, however, walked on, taking no apparent note 
of these things. They could not get through the long 
hall very fast, on account of the ladders and pails that 
were lying about. As Dan bore to the right, Nanny, 
seeing an open door at the end of the hall, on the 
left, jumped nimbly across the intervening impedi- 
ments and peeped in. She saw a carpeted room of 
fair size, containing a small bed and a few pieces of 
plain furniture. There was no one in it. Nanny re- 
treated from the door and rejoined her husband, but 
did not tell him what she had seen. 

They peeped into a great empty dining-room, they 
visited a lofty drawing-room, where the damp had 
come through from the outside and peeled some of 
the white and gold paper off the walls. There was 
a veranda behind, raised from the garden by a few 
steps, and now a nest of wisteria, clematis, and Vir- 
ginia creeper, which had spread over the railings in 
all directions, so that it was with difficulty that Nanny, 
opening the window, forced her way through to look 
out over the grounds. The wild, luxuriant vegetation 
in this neglected garden seemed to her, at that moment, 
more attractive than the better-cared-for beauties of 
the grounds of Brent Grange. 

“ Oh, Dan, ’’she cried, “what a beautiful place this 
might be made ! ” 

Dan who was standing just inside the window be- 
hind her, made no answer. He was staring out at 
the waste with a frown on his face, and a look of 
mingled anger and bewilderment. 

There was a slight noise inside. A man’s voice 
was heard uttering an impatient exclamation, a man’s 
heavy tread along the floor. Then Captain Ryder 
found himself seized by the shoulder, and drawn back 
roughly into the room. 

“ What business have you here? ” cried a voice, 


RALPH RYDER OF BREHT, 


79 

which Nanny recognised. “ Don’t you know that 
you have no right to come inside this house at all 
now ” 

He had got thus far, when Captain Ryder, recover- 
ing his breath, and indignant at the unceremonious 
handling, freed himself with so quick a movement 
that his assailant staggered back a yard or so. In 
the meantime, Nanny, breathless with amazement, 
and wondering what was going to happen next, ap- 
peared at the window, and instinctively caught her 
husband’s arm. 

“ Dan,” she exclaimed, “ it’s a mistake. This is 
Mr. Eley, the brother of Mrs. Durrant. ” Then, turn- 
ing to Valentine, she went on with dignity, “ This is 
Captain Ryder, my husband.” 

But this introduction failed to restore composure to 
the unfortunate Valentine, who still stared at Captain 
Ryder with an expression of quite unmistakable terror. 
He stammered, he grew red, he grew white, he did 
everything one would not have expected in a man so 
easily self-possessed as he had appeared to Nanny on 
her first acquaintance with him. 

“You see,” he said abjectly, looking from one to 
the other as he spoke, “ this house — shut up so long, 
you know — What was it I said? I forget the words. ” 
Again he looked anxiously from the wife to the hus- 
band. “ But every passer-by thinks he has a right to 
come in and — and tramp all about the place. And I 
assure you. Captain Ryder, I apologise most humbly.” 

Both the visitors had long since recovered their 
serenity, and Captain Ryder said at once : 

“It is we who have to apologise, but the place 
was let so recently that we didn’t think there was any- 
one inside but workmen. To tell you the truth, the 
first I heard of the letting was when I came down 
here this morning. Two days ago I was here, and 
there were no signs of a prospective tenant. I don’t 
know even who has taken the house : perhaps you 
can tell me ? ” • ^ 

But th^se remarks seemed to disconcert Valentine, 


So 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


who flushed a deep beet-root colour, and laughed un- 
easily as he glanced at Mrs. Ryder. 

“Well, the fact is— that /am your new tenant. 
I know you, Mrs. Ryder, will hardly think me an 
eligible one.” For Nanny could not repress a start 
of astonishment. “ But — er — my friends — er — have 
come forward, and not being able to overlook the 
claims of such a deserving case, have set me on my 
feet again.” 

Captain Ryder looked from the young man to Nanny, 
with an evident touch of jealousy at what looked like 
an understanding between her and this singular ten- 
ant. She turned to him, blushing and laughing very 
prettily. 

“ You know, Dan dear, I think I did tell you about 
my first meeting with Mr. Eley ” When Mr.. Eley, 
having the misfortune to be behindhand with his rent, 
had his valuable furniture and effects sold and carted 
off before his very eyes.” 

This recital seemed to give Valentine as much 
amusement as the incident had caused him. But it 
was scarcely to be wondered at that his new landlord 
did not see the matter in quite the same light. It was 
with a little coolness, therefore, on the one side at 
least, that they parted, Captain Ryder observing that 
they had left some people waiting for them at The 
Grange. 

‘ ‘ The Bambridges, by any chance, may I ask } ” 
said Valentine, who evidently knew something of 
those young people. “ If so, they would say a good 
word for me, Em sure.” 

“ It will take a great many good words from a great 
many people to make me like that young man,” said 
Captain Ryder decidedly to his wife as soon as they 
got outside. “ I don’t like his face, and I don’t like 
what little I’ve heard of him. And he has exactly 
the rnanner towards women which they like, and I 
don't,*' he added emphatically. 

This opinion of his was confirmed on his arriving 
at The Grange again, where the Bambridges, one 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 8l 

and all, sang Mr. Valentine Eley s praises. If one 
was less vehement than the rest, it was Laura, the 
vivacious one, who rather listened to than joined in 
the general chorus, but who blushed at' every men- 
tion of Valentine’s name. They were all delighted tQ 
hear the news that Nanny let slip, that it was he who 
had taken the White House. They all seemed sur- 
prised at the intelligence, however, and presently the 
story came out, as they all stood together under the 
great trees of The Grange, of the sale of his furniture 
when he lived in a little cottage on the green. 

“That was his sister’s fault, I’m sure,” said Laura 
warmly. “ I always did dislike that Mrs. Durrant. 
She was so mean, and thought so much of herself, 
and had curious ways of disappearing and reappear- 
ing. Of course, living here in the biggest house in 
the place, we were disposed to look up to her, and to 
expect her to take the lead in things. But she always 
said she was too poor. Though we never believed 
it until this morning, when we learnt that she had 
suddenly left the place for good, and ” 

Laura was interrupted in her glib speech by Jessica, 
the eldest sister, a plain-featured, dark girl, who 
looked delicate, and whose only other salient charac- 
teristic was a remarkably sweet and gentle expres- 
sion. 

“You are making Captain Ryder think us very in- 
quisitive, Laura,” she said wamingly. 

And poor Laura, becoming suddenly aware how 
very indiscreet she had been, laughed and blushed, 
taking the reproof very well. 

“You see,” chimed in Adela, the youngest and 
only pretty sister, coming very gracefully to her 
sister’s aid, “ it really matters so much who lives here. 
And with nice people in it, it will be so different.” 

“ Now we shan’t be so dependent upon the Hitch- 
ins,” cried Laura triumphantly, having already re- 
covered her spirits. 

“And pray who are the Hitchins? ” asked Captain 
Ryder, smiling. 


Si kALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

“Three old maids who live next door to us/’ began 
at least two voices. 

“And they keep doves and cats,” added Adela. 

“And sometimes the cats eat the doves,” went on 
Laura. 

‘ ‘ And then one of the maids comes with the Misses 
Hitchins’ compliments, and please have we found 
any feathers in the garden, as the Misses Hitchins is 
very much upset, and wants to give them a proper 
funeral ! ” 

‘ ‘ And serve them right, for they encourage all the 
stray cats in the neighbourhood, until you can’t leave 
a hat out in the garden all night without finding a 
stray kitten in it in the morning,” concluded Arthur. 

‘ ‘ And when we get up a bazaar, they always send 
two dozen kettle-holders, and two dozen penwipers, 
and two dozen bookmarks, with hieroglyphics worked 
on them, that read ‘ Kiss me,’ when you twirl them 
round and round. And if they’re not all sold (and 
they never are), Arthur has to make the rest up in a 
parcel and leave them in a train, or they’d be offended, 
and they would never put into our raffles any 
more. ” 

Having talked herself out of breath, Laura took her 
eldest sister’s hint, and held out her hand in farewell 
to Nanny. 

“ Please forgive us for detaining you so long,” 
said staid Jessica, as they all prepared to go. 

They all trooped off in the direction of the gate, 
but, finding that locked, had to retreat with ignominy 
through the gap in the wall by which they had come. 
Adela, however, the youngest girl, ran back breath- 
lessly to ask if they wanted to get into the house, and 
whether they had a key. 

“For I know it’s locked,” she said, with a laugh 
and a blush, “because we were dying of curiosity 
to know what it was like inside, and we — we tried 
the doors. ” 

“ What ! haven’t you ever been in the house, when 
you lived so near ” asked Nanny. 


RALPH RVDEk OF BRENT, 


83 

‘‘No, never. Mamma wouldn’t let us visit Mrs. 
Durrani. She didn’t like the look of her, she said. 
I’ve come back to ask if I shall run across to old Mrs. 
Spriggs, who has charge of the key .? ” 

They didn’t want to trouble her, they said. But 
Adela said it was no trouble, and ran off, perhaps 
not without a secret hope that she would be rewarded 
by an invitation to get a peep at the interesting old 
house before any of her brothers and sisters. 

If this was her thought, she was not disappointed. 
When she returned with the key, her round, rosy 
cheeks flushed with running. Captain Ryder unlocked 
the front door, and admitted both ladies into a wide, 
low hall — spoiled, to fastidious modern eyes, by two 
mean wooden staircases with painted banisters. 
However, the interior of the house was not alto- 
gether a disappointment. It had been beautifully 
kept ; the dust of the one day only that it had been shut 
up lay lightly on the furniture, which was just not 
old-fashioned enough to be in fashion, and consisted 
chiefly of the curly-legged chairs, inlaid tables, and 
whatnots of the “ Keepsake,” period of civilisation. 
The pictures were either heavy engravings, dark 
copies of “ old masters,” or fruit and flower subjects 
and landscapes in watercolours of a strictly conven- 
tional kind. The carpets and curtains also, and the 
tawny sheepskin mats, dated from pre-South Kensing- 
ton days. But there was an appearance of cosiness 
and comfort about the low-ceilinged lower rooms, 
and a freshness about the white dimity of the bed- 
rooms, which gave a charm of their own to the old 
place. 

“ It’s like going through the Sleeping Beauty’s 
house, and expecting every moment to come upon 
her,” said Nanny. “Whatever this poor Mrs. Dur- 
rant may have been like, she certainly kept the place 
in most beautiful order.” 

This last remark was not quite spontaneously 
made. She looked at her husband to see whether 
this comment would draw forth some expression of 


84 RALPH R YDER OF BRENT, 

opinion concerning the caretaker. But it did not. 
Captain Ryder was busy, examining with interest 
an old rifle which hung on the wall, with a number 
of similar relics, in a little corner room on the ground- 
floor. 

“This must have been my father’s study,’’ he said, 
as he glanced around him at the massive amateur 
tool-chest, with marks of use and wear ; the neat 
bookcase with its rows of undisturbed, beautifully- 
bound standard works ; the hunting sketches ; the 
horse’s hoof mounted as an inkstand. Everything 
in the little room betrayed the tastes 6f a young man 
whose habits had been active rather than sedentary. 
The study was at the corner of the house, With win- 
dows looking to the north and east. These did not 
open down to the ground, but were so low that from 
the wide, cushioned window-seats it was easy to get 
out on to the soft grass underneath. But a thick 
growth of creepers hung over the windows, tapping 
at the frames as the wind stirred them, and the mov- 
ing branches of the trees made strange, shifting pat- 
terns in the afternoon sunlight on the faded drab 
carpet. 

Nanny saw that her husband was deeply moved, 
and she stole up to him while their young girl com- 
panion was trying the window-seats. 

“It reminds you of him very much, doesn’t it, 
Dan } ” she murmured. 

Captain Ryder started. 

‘ ‘ I can hardly say it reminds me of him, for I never 
saw my father. He died before I was born. But 
it all touches one, of course.” 

He turned from her to examine a crayon drawing 
of a little fair-haired lady with very blue eyes and 
very pink cheeks, which hung on the wall opposite 
to one of the windows. 

“She is very pretty,” said Nanny, with a jealous 
feeling. ‘ ‘ Who is it } ” 

“My mother. There is not much resemblance 
left to that, is there ? ” 


liALPH RYDER OF BJ^ ENT. 85 

Nanny, in astonishment, had to admit that there 
was not. 

“And your father. Isnt there a portrait of him 
somewhere ” 

“I think not. At least I have never seen one. 
But I have sometimes entertained a suspicion that 
the poor old lady treasures one up for her own eyes 
only, as something too sacred to be shown even to 
me.’’ 

Adela rose suddenly from her window-seat with 
an exclamation. 

“They are coming back,” she said. “And, oh, 
look what they are bringing ! ” 

Over the lawn, laughing, scolding each other, put- 
ting their burden in imminent danger, came Laura 
and Arthur, with a wicker-work table between them 
set out for tea. 

‘ ‘ Mamma has sent this, with her compliments and 
apologies for our shocking conduct. — There now, 
you have joggled the cream all over the bread-and- 
butter ! ” panted out Laura, all in the same breath. 

“ It was you who joggled. If it had been me ” 

“I,” corrected Jessica, who was following with a 
plate of cake. 

“ If it had been I,” went on Arthur, accepting the 
correction without comment, “the cream would have 
gone over the biscuits. That stands to reason. 
Only women have no reason. Captain Ryder will 
see the justice of my case.” 

“And Mrs. Ryder. You are positively insulting, 
Arthur. ” 

“Not at all,” said Arthur gravely. “Married 
ladies learn reason from their husbands. Mrs. Ryder 
has learnt it from her husband, just as my wife will 
learn it from me.” 

He was laughed down in contemptuous chorus, 
while his sisters asked Nanny whether they should 
place the table under a big mulberry-tree which grew 
near the southeast corner of the house. 

“ But won’t you stay and have tea with us ? ” asked 


86 RALPH RYDER OP BRENT. 

she. when she had thanked them, and they were pre- 
paring to retire. “ We shall be so disappointed if you 
won’t. ” 

“There, I told you so!” said Arthur, aside to 
Laura triumphantly. “I will go and fetch some 
more cups and saucers,” he added aloud, with an 
obliging smile. 

But, from the speed with which he reappeared, it 
was too evident that, expecting an invitation, he had 
had those cups and saucers within easy reach. He fur- 
ther “gave himself away,” as he himself expressed 
it, by his alacrity in bringing out some chairs from ’Fhe 
Grange drawing-room — which led to the confession 
that he and Charlie had before now watched Mrs. 
Durrant go out, and then broken into the grounds 
and made explorations. 

“ Of course,” added Arthur hastily, perceiving that 
he might have admitted too much, “we shouldn’t 
think of doing so now. It doesn’t matter how one 
behaves to persons one is not on visiting terms with. ” 

With which appalling axiom, delivered with as 
little concern as if it had been a truism, Arthur helped 
himself abundantly to cake. 

This unexpected meeting with bright lads and lasses 
of her own age delighted Nanny, whose spirits had, 
in spite of her husband’s devotion, suffered somewhat 
in consequence of her recent discoveries. She 
expressed her pleasure to them with frank confidence. 
Arthur shook his head. 

“It is lucky it was I, and not Charlie, who stayed 
away from the City to-day, then,” he said, with sub- 
lime modesty. “Or we should not have made such 
a favourable impression. You won’t like Charlie, 
I’m afraid. At least, he may be a very good fellow, 
but — he rides a bicycle.” 

“ And why not ” asked Captain Ryder. “ It isn’t 
everybody who can ride one.” 

“I look upon the rider of a bicycle as only one 
degree above the reader of Tit-Bits,'' said the lad 
majestically. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


S7 

“There are sometimes very amusing things in Tit- 
Bits, Arthur,'’ cried Adela, blushing. “In a copy I 
found in your coat-pocket the other day ” 

'There was a most unkind outburst of laughter, 
which did not disconcert Arthur, who went on to 
explain that he had bought that copy as a text on 
^vhich to read his elder brother a lecture on the viti- 
ation of the mind by “scrappy ” reading. 

And so, amid a buzz of light laughter and “ young ” 
talk, tea under the mulberry-tree came to an end, 
and the lad and the lasses, with hearty farewells, 
tripped across the grass with their table and cups and 
saucers, leaving an echo of their merriment in the 
old trees. 

. Then silence fell suddenly on the couple, who 
wandered indoors, and began to peer about into the 
nooks of the old house, making closer acquaintance 
with it. Then they stood under the cuckoo clock in 
the gallery over the hall, while the little wooden bird 
sprang out and jerked forth his two notes as six 
o’clock struck. It was getting dark and cool, and 
rather melancholy, Nanny thought. Her husband 
was so silent, and the old trees did sway about so, 
and make such a sad sound in the rising night breeze. 

Suddenly they heard the sound of a key in the lock 
of the front door down below. 

“Hallo!” said Captain Ryder to his wife in an 
undertone; “ keep back, and don’t make a sound. 
This looks like burglary.” 

Nanny obeyed, and retreated into the corner by 
the clock. Her husband went quietly down the stairs, 
and waited, grasping his stick tightly, for the door to 
open. But it was no burglar who entered : it was 
Pickering, the old gardener, who started back at sight 
of Captain Ryder with a very evident shock. 

“Captain!” he exclaimed, in a low voice full of 
alarm, ‘ ‘ you here } Why, Lord love you ! sir, how did 
you get in } Didn’t you know she’d gone away, sir ? 
The old lady came and packed her off yesterday, 
and she went as meek as any lamb. ” 


88 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


“What the do I care how she went?” cried 

Captain Ryder, in an irritable voice. “ If you mean 
by ‘ her ’ and ‘ she ’ the woman who has been living 
here, and who has left me the legacy of another uri- 
desirable tenant in the person of her brother.” 

•‘Oh, yes, sir, ’’answered Pickering, in an entirely dif- 
ferent tone of voice. His sharp eyes had caught sight 
of the outline of Nanny’s head and hat against the 
window at the end of the gallery. The suggestion of 
affectionate intimacy had gone from his voice vvhich 
had become on the instant cold, distant, and respect- 
ful. “I beg your pardon, but I thought you had 
perhaps called to see Mrs. Durrant about the furniture 
and the state of the place, sir, before coming in. But 
she had an ‘ infantry ’ made, sir, most careful, and I 
don’t think you’ll find anything wrong, barring the 
roof over one of the attic bedrooms lets in the water a 
little at times.” 

“Confound the roof ! ” said Captain Ryder shortly, 
as he turned away, and glanced anxiously up towards 
the place where his wife was standing. 

He foresaw that a “scene,” or a misunderstanding, 
or something unpleasant of the sort, was inevitable. 
For Nanny had come forward, and was leaning 
against the railing of the balcony, and he could hear 
that she was breathing heavily, and see that her slen- 
der little figure was shaking like the branches of the 
wind-tossed trees outside. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


89 


CHAPTER VII. 

Captain Ryder did his wife injustice. Nanny was very 
young, very inexperienced ; but common-sense and her 
affection for her husband served her as well, in this 
emergency, as maturity and knowledge of the world 
could have done. The little scene she had just wit- 
nessed seemed only to prove what she knew already, 
that Dan had not been quite frank with her, in that 
he had certainly known Mrs. Durrant more intimately 
than he professed to have done. 

But, on the other hand, if this woman had really 
been his nurse while his mind was affected, Dan, 
wishing to keep the whole matter from coming to his 
wife’s ears, would, of course, have to pretend he knew 
nothing of her. Nanny wished that Dan would have 
confided in her, and she made up her mind that some 
day, when the awe in which she still held her dignified 
husband should have a little abated, she would worm 
out of him, by coaxing and by practising all the arts of 
cajolery she knew, the secrets she had already learned. 
He should tell her about that unhappy first marriage, 
and even about the mental illness which she felt sure 
was a consequence of it. 

And then there flashed suddenly through her mind 
the horrible words uttered in her hearing that day by 
the old labourer : wild, childish, rambling as they 
were, they troubled her. There must be yet another 
secret in this family into which she had married ; 
Nanny resolved to find out what she could about her 
husband’s immediate ancestors. For one word in 
the old grave-digger’s rambling talk had frightened 
her. 

“It’s getting late, Dan, isn’t it? We ought to be 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


90 

going back/' she said, with a little nervous tremor in 
her voice, as her husband came up to her. 

Captain Ryder, who had reached the top of the stair- 
case, saw that her hands were clasping and unclasping 
the railing of the gallery. He knew that she must 
have heard what passed between him and Pickering ; 
and, much as he had dreaded a “scene” over the 
incident, he thought it better to have done with it 
there and then. 

“ Yes,” he said briefly, in answer to her suggestion. 
And then, coming a little nearer to her, so that she 
might not, in the half-light, be able to hide the expres- 
sion of her face from him, he said : “ You heard the 
way in which that man spoke to me when he first 
came in, Nanny. Now, what did it make you think ? 
Tell the truth, dear.” 

The young wife hesitated a moment before reply- 
ing, in a low voice : 

“ It made me think that you must have known Mrs. 
Durrant before, and ” 

‘ ‘ And, therefore, that I had told you a falsehood in 
saying I did not know her .? ” 

“No, no, Dan, not that. I don't remember, now 
I think of it, that you ever did tell me, in so many 
words, that you had never seen her before yester- 
day. And, Dan dearest, you don't think I should 
trouble my head about an idle word said by a servant. 
Whatever you do is right to me, and what you tell 
me I believe without any question.” 

“Then you will believe me when I tell you that I 
am not even sure that the woman I saw yesterday was 
Mrs. Durrant. I only know that she said she was the 
person in charge of The Grange. Now are you sat- 
isfied } ” 

Captain Ryder spoke with more irritation than he 
had ever before shown to his bride, and she listened to 
his words without comment. But she was conscious 
of a feeling of disappointment. She could have re- 
mained content with half knowledge, and would have 
put her own simple-minded and most generous con- 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


9 * 


sLruction upon that part of the matter which she did 
not know. But this challenge she could not directly 
face. He had denied too much. , 

“I was satisfied before, Dan,” she said timidly. 

‘ ‘ But are you satisfied now ? ” he persisted, being 
much too keen of sense where she was concerned 
not to be conscious of the slight constraint which 
peeped out under her wifely submission. 

He came nearer to her, and his right hand, which 
had so often caressed her passionately, touched hers 
on the railing. And emotion becoming on the instant 
stronger than reason, she caught his arm and put her 
fresh young face close to his. 

“ I am satisfied — I am satisfied that you love me — 
only me ! And that whatever you say it is right for 
me to believe, if all the world besides denied it ! ” 

Well, no husband of a month’s standing could be 
otherwise than content with such a declaration so 
uttered. And he showered kisses on her pretty lips, 
and as she leaned in his arms they both forgot the 
untoward incident ; and they left the old house 
with the feeling that they would be happy together 
within its walls. But as they drew near the gate they 
saw Pickering, standing like a sentinel on duty, among 
the trees not far off. Captain Ryder called to him ; 
but, affecting not to hear, the man disappeared in the 
shrubbery. And husband and wife, thus reminded 
of what they would fain have forgotten, made no 
comment, but felt again a slight uneasiness— none 
the less vexatious because neither would confess it to 
the other. 

Next day Captain Ryder started off immediately 
after breakfast to see his mother. He returned to the 
hotel to luncheon, disturbed, annoyed and gloomy. 
Nanny asked him no questions, but of his own free 
will he presently satisfied her curiosity. 

“I have had it out with the old lady,” he said 
when, luncheon over, Nanny was lighting his cigar 
for him. 

“Well, dear.” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


9 * 

= I put it to her that I couldn’t afford to have a big 
place like the White House kept empty for the sake 
of this lazy young protege of hers — that Eley.” 

“What did she say to that ? ” asked Nanny, full of 
excitement. 

“Said she had a personal regard for the fellow: 
one of his relations had rendered great services to 
our family. ” 

“ And then — how did it end .? ” 

“Just now.? Oh, in her having her own way, of 
course. I suggested that she should offer this young 
man one of a row of pretty little cottages I have at 
Teddington, as being much more comfortable and 
convenient for a young man than a great rambling 
house. She would not hear of it.” 

“Well, now, isn’t there something suspicious and 
mysterious about that fact itself.? ” asked Nanny, 
who was secretly full of indignation against both 
brother and sister for their cynical avowal of their 
intention to live on her husband. 

“My mother, Nanny, belongs to a large class of 
strong-willed, imperfectly educated women who 
delight in mysteries — no matter how petty — because 
they give them the sense of power, of possessing 
some little scrap of generally useless knowledge not 
held by some one else.” 

‘ ‘ And you think such a petty feeling ought to be 
indulged .? ” 

“No, dear. I indulge it against my better judg- 
ment. The old lady is mistress of every art by 
which a woman gets her own way. When I pleaded 
poverty, and the hardship it was to me to have a big 
place bringing in no rent, she said Valentine Eley 
should pay me rent, and that if I did not think it 
sufficient, she would give up her own brougham and 
give me what it cost a year to keep it up.” 

‘ ‘ But it was unfair to say a thing like that. And, 
do you know, Dan — of course you won’t believe me, 
but I don’t believe she meant to give her brougham 
up.” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


93 

‘‘Of course she did not I knew that all the time.” 

And you let her have her own way all the same } 
Dan, you are more indulgent to your mother than 
you are to me.” 

“Quite true, child. You are tender, unselfish, sub- 
missive. You have been well educated, and not 
spoilt As you can never attain to it, I don't mind 
telling you that a steady, aggressive selfishness is the 
best means in the world of getting your own way, 
not only in youth, but in age.” 

Captain Ryder spoke with much bitterness, and 
Nanny would not let him say another word upon the 
subject She was not really jealous of his mother’s 
influence with Dan, since that influence did not 
extend to an empire over his heart That, Nanny 
thought, was her province, and it was one in which 
she feared no rival. Indeed, in spite of his submis- 
sion to old Mrs. Ryder in the matter of Valentine 
Eley, he showed a growing wish to emancipate 
himself altogether from what Nanny saw had been 
a tyranny. 

Thus, when his young wife suggested consulting 
the old lady as to the servants they would want, and 
asking her help in engaging them, Captain Ryder 
answered very shortly that she had better trust her 
own judgment. 

“We don’t want a spy in the house,” he added 
hastily : then, feeling that he had gone a little too far, 
he laughed and said in a more leisurely tone : “ These 
dear old ladies always want to know too much about 
a household that is newly started, Nanny. Servants 
look upon the woman who engages them as their 
mistress, and we don’t want it reported to my mother 
or any one else what bad judges we are of a leg of 
mutton, or how wasteful we are with the sugar. ” 

“ But, Dan dear, that’s just what I’m afraid of! I 
am a bad judge of a leg of mutton, and I shall be 
wasteful with the sugar 1 You ought to have married 
Meg. She’s a splendid housekeeper.” 

“Perhaps if I’d wanted to marry a housekeeper I 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


94 

should have chosen Meg. We ll have a cook-house- 
keeper, and then you won’t have to tease your 
pretty little head about it. ’’ 

“ Oh, Dan, won't that be too extravagant } ” 

“I think we can manage it. Then we must have 
three other woman-servants ; and for the present at 
least we must do without any men-servants, except 
just a gardener and coachman. Of course you must 
have a brougham. ” 

“ But, Dan, I don’t want one. I 

“It is not what you want, but what my wife must 
have,” interrupted he decidedly. “As soon as we 
are settled I am going up to Durham, where I have 
a little property. It has not suffered like the Bicton 
estate, from my mother’s mismanagement ; but I am 
going to see whether the most is being made of it, 
which I doubt.” 

For the next few days husband and wife were 
busily occupied, the former with business, the latter 
with the search for servants. Unluckily, of the four 
she chose, only two were disengaged and could 
come at once. However, Nanny and her husband 
decided to settle in their new home without further 
delay, and manage without a parlour-maid and with 
only one housemaid for a little while. 

Before the end of October, therefore, they took 
possession of The Grange. 

It was on a raw, cold day, with a drizzle of rain 
falling, that they arrived. Nanny rather prided her- 
self on her forethought in having told the two ser- 
vants who could come to settle in the house the day 
before, so as to have everything ready. But only 
the cook-housekeeper, a middle-aged woman with a 
formidably excellent character and an appearance to 
match, had put in an appearance when her master 
and mistress arrived. She had a cold in the head, 
was very cross at having had to stay in the house 
alone all night, and gave an appalling account of 
the deficiencies of the place. Having been used to 
large households, she had a way of talking which 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


95 

crushed poor Nanny and drove Captain Ryder to 
frenzy. 

“The kitchen-range was of a sort she had never 
even seen before, and was evidently not intended for 
the purpose of cooking. All the chimneys smoked 
except one ; and in the case of that exceptional one, 
not only the smoke, but the heat also, went up the 
chimney. The passage was draughty, the boards 
creaked. The ” 

Captain Ryder would not let his wife hear any 
more. He cut the woman’s complaints very short, 
and began to lead Nanny, who was almost in tears, 
straight to the study. But as they went the cook- 
housekeeper, raising her voice, managed to deliver a 
parting salute which struck terror to the heart of her 
so-called mistress. 

“And you will please understand, ma’am, that I 
leave this day month, and that if you can suit your- 
self before that, I should be glad, ma’am. I’ve been 
used to the best families, and to having everything 
regular and comfortable. Let alone that I did not 
expect to be left alone in the ’ouse, which it’s damp 
and not fit to sleep in without a month of airing, and 
with old women with staring eyes prowling about 
and asking questions which would never be heard of 
a respectable ’ouse.” 

Nanny dragged her arm out of her husband’s sud- 
denly as these last words, uttered in a shrill, piercing 
tone, fell upon her ears. 

“ What does she mean, Dan } ” asked she, shaking 
with nameless fears. 

“ I don’t know,” said he savagely. “ But whatever 
she means, we’ll have no more of her nonsense, for 
we’ll send her about her business this very minute.” 

He was proceeding to suit the action to the word, 
when Nanny detained him, clinging to his arm. 

“Don’t, Dan; don’t. At least till one of the others 
comes. 1 can’t cook and I can’t light fires, and — 
and ” 

She broke down, and began to cry. Captain Ryder, 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


96 

half distracted, found the first experience of life in 
ones own home disappointing. He postponed the 
eviction of the cook, while he proceeded to dry his 
wife’s eyes and console her. 

“Don’t — don’t cry, there’s a dear, good child ! ” he 
said, slapping her hands under the vague impression 
that this was a preventive of hysterics. 

But through his kind words Nanny heard a fresh 
outburst from the indignant cook, who had e xpected to 
have her wounded feelings soothed, and who had 
instead overheard her master’s threat of dismissal. 

“Send her about her business, will you .? No, no- 
body ever yet treated Sarah Tebbits with insult, nor 
yet they never shan’t either,” she cried in vindictive 
tones. “Nor yet wouldn’t she stay in a place where 
there was a doubt who her mistress was either. And 
when old women that comes to pry about the place 
says, says they : ‘ Is your mistress plain Mrs. Ryder, 
or is she Lady Ellen Ryder ? ’ why then I says to my- 
self, ‘Sarah Tebbits, says I, this is no place for 
you !' ” 

With which words, uttered with vicious emphasis, 
the enraged cook-housekeeper slammed a door, and 
for a time effaced herself. 

Husband and wife had both listened, both heard. 
Of the two. Captain Ryder was the more startled by 
her angry speech, and by the mention of ‘ ‘ Lady Ellen. ” 
Half lifting her off her feet, he led Nanny into the study. 
It was cheerless and cold there, and the room felt 
damp, as if it had not been used for some time. A 
fine rain was falling, blurring the window panes, and 
making the garden outside look fresh and green. 

“ What shall we do.?” cried Nanny, sinking on the 
sofa, and looking tearfully at her husband. 

The fireplace was filled with the old-fashioned white 
shavings which had been put there for th^ summer. 
The idea of making a fire in it seemed too remote to 
afford any hope or comfort. Captain Ryder was struck 
with a cheering suggestion. 

“ I know,” he said. “ I’ll find out those nice girls 


liALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


97 

who were here the other day ; they’ll do something' 
for us.” 

But Nanny felt reluctant for him to go. 

‘ ‘ I’m so afraid, ” she said, ‘ ‘ that that dreadful woman 
will come in and abuse me again. Couldn’t I go with 
you.?” 

“In the rain.? No, my darling; you had better 
stay here. I know by what those girls said that they 
live close by. I shall be back in a few minutes. ” 

He sat down on the sofa beside her, trying to coax 
her into acquiescence. It was some minutes, how- 
ever, before he could persuade her to let him leave 
her. It was clear that something of more importance 
than a servant’s ill-humour was troubling the poor 
child’s mind. 

‘ ‘ Lady Ellen ! Who did she mean by Lady Ellen ? 
And who could the old woman be whom she said she 
found prowling about here ? ” she broke out at last. 

“Oh, only some old local busybody who makes 
other people’s affairs the business of her wretched life,” 
answered Captain Ryder impatiently. 

‘ ‘ But Lady Ellen ? Who is Lady Ellen .? Do you 
know anything of her .? ” 

His reply to this was shorter and more constrained : 

‘ ‘ Never mind old women’s tales now. Let us think 
about ourselves.” 

The sofa on which they were sitting was in the 
corner between the two windows. Suddenly the light 
from the north was partially shut out, and husband and 
wife became aware of a face peering in, close to the 
glass. 

“There she is ! ” cried Nanny, starting up. 

The wet creeper outside swung about and scattered 
a shower of raindrops, as the intruder drew back 
quickly on perceiving that the room was not empty. 
Almost as quickly, however, she recovered her ground 
on catching sight of Captain Ryder, and stood as if 
transfixed, gazing at him steadily through a gold 
double-eyeglass. 

‘ ‘ Who is she .? who is she .? What does she mean 
7 


RALPH RYDER OP BRENT. 


98 

by spying on us ? ” asked Nanny in indignation and 
fear. 

“ I haven’t the least idea, but I think we’ll have an 
explanation,” said he. 

Perhaps the woman outside heard or guessed the 
gist of their talk. At any rate, she disappeared so 
promptly that by the time Captain Ryder had gone 
along the passage to a garden door,- unbolted it, and 
got outside the house, there was no sign of her recent 
presence to be seen in any part of the garden. When 
he returned to his wife, she had on her gloves again, 
and was standing up ready to accompany him, and 
he no longer tried to dissuade her. 

The first person they met in the road outside was 
able to tell them where “ Bambridges ” lived. It was 
in a pretty white house, facing the green, with trees 
and tall shrubs darkening all the front windows. The 
panels of the front door were decorated with what 
looked, when the gas was alight, like stained glass, 
and the hall showed traces of pretty taste, clever fingers, 
and visits to Liberty’s. 

Nanny and her husband had not been five minutes 
inside the house when they felt that they had found 
rest from their troubles. Once settled in the pretty, 
bright drawing-room, overfilled with marvels of crewel- 
work, string-work, fret-work, and every other sort of 
work which busy girl-fingers could do, with kind Mrs. 
Bambridge listening sympathetically, the girls indig- 
nantly, and the big brother Charlie ferociously, to her 
account of the onslaught of the cook and the ap- 
parition of the old woman, Nanny recognised that 
the tragedy of it was all over. 

‘ ‘ Mrs. Calverley ! ” cried a chorus at the mention 
of the face at the window. 

“ Who is she ? ” asked Nanny. 

“She is the grande dame of the place, the only 
person in Brent who ever dares to consider herself on 
the same footing as The Grange people,” cried Laura, 
in spite of a reproving glance from her mother, which, 
indeed, she did not see. “ She looks down upon us 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


99 

from a great height, and has never called upon us, in 
all the four years we have lived here, until two days 
ago/' 

“ And then it was only because she had heard the 
girls had seen you, Mrs. Ryder, so she called to 
‘ pump ’ them about you,” said Charlie, who was a 
very tall young man, with a plain-featured, intelligent 
face, and an expression of quiet mischief in his 
eyes. 

Mrs. Bambridge, good soul ! looked much distressed 
by her children’s ill-chosen cackle. She was a kind, 
motherly woman, of a type common enough in Eng- 
land — honest, honourable, industrious, unselfish, de- 
voted, full of practical common-sense in the small 
matters of life, in whom the natural striving after the 
ideal found vent in petty ambitions to be thought some- 
thing a little different from what she was. The greatest 
grief she had ever known had been her husband’s 
insistence on leaving their gloomy porticoed house 
in an obsqure part of Bayswater for the fresher air and 
lower rent of Brent. “ How could she hope to get 
the girls off at Brent } ” she had piteously asked him. 
Nor was she comforted by the reminder that her 
‘ ‘ at homes ” in the Bayswater back street, where "fehe 
had successfully reproduced the heat and the over- 
crowding of a fashionable reception while missing its 
brilliancy, had not brought the young men to their 
knees. “Not even your lukewarm lemonade and 
flabby biscuits would drive ’em to it, Emily, you 
know,” chuckled her matter-of-fact husband, who 
was an accountant in the City, with no soul for social 
aspirations. 

And of late her very children seemed to be taking 
more and more her husband’s view of the matter, and 
not hers. Here they were, at the moment when a 
lucky accident had brought them prominently under 
dhe notice of “The Grange people,” and placed them 
on a footing of intimacy with them, taking a lower 
ground, and undoing the good of it all ! 

“What nonsense, Charlie!” she exclaimed. 


100 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


‘‘Why should Mrs. Calverley look down upon us? I 
am sure she was most civil." 

“Well, mother, ten minutes' civility once in two 
years ought not to be too great a strain on the con- 
stitution of a lady who has married the second cousin 
of an Irish viscount.” 

“I don’t know why you should sneer, Charlie. 
It is not her fault that Mrs. Calverley is well con- 
nected.” 

“No, it is our misfortune.” Charlie got up, and 
crossed the room to Captain Ryder. ‘ ‘ If you want 
to get rid of the cook to-night,” he suggested, “ you 
had better pack her off before it gets dark. ” 

Captain Ryder agreed, and accepted the offer of 
the young man’s companionship on the expedition. 

“ If she won’t go of her own accord,” said Charlie, 
with a grim smile, “ I’ll undertake that Arthur and I 
will dislodge her.” 

Mrs. Bambridge now came forward, insisting that 
both husband and wife should remain her guests for 
the night. But, while accepting the invitation for 
Nanny, Captain Ryder refused it for himself. He 
would sleep at The Grange, to take care of it. 

He and Charlie Bambridge had not left the house 
more than five minutes when another visitor was 
announced, whose name caused a great flutter — 
Mrs. Calverley. For while Mrs. Bambridge was de- 
lighted beyond measure that it was at her house that 
the two great ladies of the neighbourhood would 
meet, poor Nanny was full of passionate excitement 
at the thought of encountering a woman whose ques- 
tions and prying investigations proved that she had 
some knowledge of, and interest in, the Ryder 
family. 

Not all her vague surmises and apprehensions, 
however, had prepared Nanny adequately for the 
critical stare, the compressed lips, the frigid bow, 
with which the old grande dame of the neighbour- 
hood greeted the young one. She had evidently not 
expected this meeting, and, while affecting annoy- 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


lOI 


ance, was really delighted at this opportunity of ex- 
pressing her mysterious disapproval of the new 
mistress of The Grange. To the other ladies this 
behaviour seemed a mere affectation of importance ; 
but Nanny knew better. 

The young wife remained very silent during the 
old lady’s visit ; but when, after a little bald talk 
about trifles, Mrs. Calverley rose to go, Nanny took 
the opportunity ^of a diversion caused by the over- 
turning of the cream-jug on to the carpet by Mrs. 
Bambridge’s lap-dog to address the departing guest 
rapidly, in a tone almost as haughty as that lady’s 
own. She wanted an explanation of the look on 
Mrs. Calverley’s face at sight of her husband. 

“You know my husband, Mrs. Calverley.?” she 
asked in very low and rapid, but firm tones. 

“ I have not that honour now. I knew him in the 
time of his first wife, Lady Ellen — many years ago.” 

On fire to hear more, and with self-command 
enough still to speak low and quickly, Nanny said : 

“ My husband is only thirty years of age, madam.” 

. The elder woman merely smiled with thin, drawn 
lips. Nanny looked her full in the eyes. 

“ When did this Lady Ellen die .? ” she asked very 
quietly. 

The answer, in spite of its cruelty, came without 
hesitation : 

‘ ‘ I never heard of her dying at all. ” 

Nanny received the blow almost without emotion. 
Before she put this last question she had known wh?.! 
the answer would be. 


102 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


II 

CHAPTER VIII. 

No one who knew her, not even Nanny herself would 
ever have guessed that she was capable of bearing a 
great shock so bravely as she bore Mrs. Calverley’s 
announcement that her husband had already a wife 
living when he married her. Perhaps if she had had 
no hint of the blow before it fell, she would have 
felt it more. As it was, for a few moments she felt 
stunned, and then she remembered that her manifest 
duty was to hide every sign of emotion until she had 
been able to test the truth of the statement she had 
just heard. So she sat down as Mrs. Calverley went 
out ; and when one of the girls asked her if she would 
have another cup of tea, she said “ Yes,” and drank 
it with a perfect appearance of composure. 

“How dreadfully tired you look!” cried Mrs. 
Bambridge suddenly, with kindly solicitude. 

The only indication Nanny betrayed of the emo- 
tions which were agitating her, was in her lips, from 
which the bright vermilion colour which usually con- 
trasted so strongly with her pale face had altogether 
disappeared. She laughed a little without apparent 
effort. 

“I am tired,” she confessed ; “ my head feels quite 
confused and sleepy.” 

They brought her smelling salts and eau de Col- 
ogne, and in their gentle attentions Nanny felt the 
balm of sympathy. They were like Meg, she thought, 
and this was the highest praise she could give. 

While they were thus ministering to a need so 
much greater than they supposed, Mr. Bambridge 
and his younger son arrived from the City. The 
former gave Nanny the impression of being a very 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


103 

good match for his kind, sensible wife ; but the lat- 
ter engaged more of her attention by his lamenta- 
tions when he heard the story of the cook. 

“ Why wasn’t I here ” he exclaimed, feeling more 
burdened than usual with the sense that nothing could 
be done well without him. “What’s the good of 
Charlie in a thing of this soi\ } It wants diplomacy, 
and — I know ! ” and his face lighted up as with in- 
spiration, “ magnesium wire ! ” 

‘ ‘ What } ” cried two of the girls together. 

‘ ‘ Don’t say ‘ What 1 ’ It’s vulgar,” corrected Arthur, 
walking towards the door. “And I can't stop to 
explain. You shall hear all about it when it’s done.” 

With an air of great importance he disappeared, 
paying no heed to his father’s injunctions not to set 
The Grange on fire with his clown’s tricks, and to 
ask Captain Ryder and Charlie to come back to din- 
ner, and put off killing the cook till afterwards. 

The time went on, dinner was put back, but 
neither Captain Ryder nor the boys returned. Poor 
Nanny grew very uncomfortable, and begged so hard 
that they would not wait for her husband that Mr. 
Bambridge, with a fine courtesy unusual in a City man 
ordered the dinner to be brought up instead of grum- 
bling at the delay. Then, after a meal which he 
rather hurried in the fear that something might have 
gone wrong, he put on his straw hat and said he 
would go and see whether his young ruffians had 
blown up The Grange and its master. 

Kind Mrs. Bambridge, divided between solicitude 
for her husband’s digestion and hospitable sympathy 
with Nanny’s growing anxiety, begged him to have 
his nap first, a prayer in which the younger ladies all 
joined. 

“ It makes me so miserable to put you all out so,” 
pleaded Nanny. 

“ And you’re always so cross, you know, papa, if 
you don’t get your forty winks,” said Adela. 

“You impudent little baggage!” grumbled Mr. 
Bambridge, with good humour. And he kissed her 


104 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


as she let him out and looked anxiously at the sky. 

“ It won’t rain again,” said he ; “it has cleared up 
for the evening. ” 

Now, the one great anxiety at Nanny’s heart had 
swallowed up all smaller ones ; so that she felt little 
or no uneasiness at her husband’s delay in returning. 
Nor was she even alarmdd when Arthur came back, 
and, instead of entering the room, called his mother 
into the hall, said a few words to her, and went out 
again. 

Mrs. Bambridge did not come back into the draw- 
ing-room ; and Laura, whose tongue wagged more 
merrily when the restraint of her mother’s presence 
was removed, threw open the window and offered 
to show Nanny “ the estate.’’ 

“We always call it the ‘estate’ when mamma 
isn’t here,” said she gaily, as she stepped out on to a 
veranda so small that there was only room on it for 
one American lounging-chair. 

“ And sometimes when she is, Laura, ’’added Jessica . 
reproachfully. 

“ Now tell me, Mrs. Ryder,” cried Laura, without 
heeding her sister, “ did you ever see so much in so 
little before } ” 

Nanny could truthfully say “ No.” In the ambiti- 
ous attempt to make one poor little half-acre yield all 
the joys of a garden six times its size, the resources 
of that poor corner of earth had been taxed to the ut- 
most. 

First, there was a lawn which you could have 
covered with a good-sized tablecloth, and at the 
corners were flower-beds so diminutive that the un- 
happy geraniums and calceolarias seemed to jostle 
each other for breathing-space. At the back of this 
came a rockery, on which there flourished, among 
other things which did not flourish, one fern of fair 
size. A thin hedge separated this part of the garden 
from the pond, in the centre of which a fountain threw 
up a jet of water, the volume of which was exactly 
equal to the stream poured from a teapot. Meagre 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


105 


as the fountain was, however, it was almost strong 
enough to wash right out of the pond the one small 
duck swimming round and round in it. Over the 
pond was one big tree, which spread its branches on 
the one side over this vast sheet of water, and on the 
other over the tennis-court, which was the next attrac- 
tion. Then came a forest of scarlet runners, in the 
midst of which was a summer-house. And to the 
beans succeeded a row of small frames, in which grew 
cucumbers and melons of corresponding diminutive- 
ness. And at the end of all a narrow little strip of 
ground had been set aside as a run for half a dozen 
fowls. Round the whole of the garden ran a narrow 
path, and a still narrower flower-border. Every part 
was exquisitely neat and well tended. Bad as the 
light was getting, Nanny saw this, and said so. 

“ You, with your beautiful grounds, can afford to 
say that,” said Laura, laughing half ruefully. “ But 
in your heart you must laugh at our attempts to do 
much with — nothing.” 

“ Oh,” said Nanny earnestly, “ indeed you are 
ridiculously wrong. I have never been used to big 
houses and gardens before. It is quite a new ex- 
perience to me I have made my own dresses and 
trimmed my own hats. I’m a parvenue/' she ended, 
smiling. 

They were back under the Virginia creeper, which 
now hung, a reddening mass, over the railing. Nanny 
had quickened her steps on seeing that Charlie was 
standing at the drawing-room window, and that the 
girls were hanging about him as if he had been tell- 
ing them something interesting. They both shrank 
out of sight, however, as Nanny and Laura came up. 
Just at that moment Arthur entered the room from 
the inner door, crying out : 

It’s all right. I’ve sent off the wire ! ” 

Charlie turned angrily. It was too late. Running 
up the three steps from the garden to the veranda, 
Nanny sprang into the room, and met the elder 
brother face to face. 


I 06 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 

. “ Something* has happened ! ” she said in a whisper. 
“ What is it ? " 

A glance from his face to the frightened counte- 
nances of the rest confirmed her fears. 

“Where is my husband?” she asked. “And 
where is Mrs. Bambridge ? She will tell me — what 
it is.” 

“ I will tell you, ” said Charlie, in a broken, shame- 
faced voice, for, as he said afterwards, it made him 
feel like a brute to have to break the news to her. 

“ Your husband ” He stopped a moment, and, 

waving his brother and his sisters imperiously back 
into the room, he came close up to the window, and 
spoke without looking into the young wife’s face : 

‘ ‘ Captain Ryder has met with an accident ; he has 
had a fall, and- ” 

“Is — he — dead?” asked Nanny, craning forward 
as if her eyes would dig the truth out of his. 

“ Oh, no, no — not even very seriously hurt, I hope. 
But he was jumping out of — of — of a window, in fact, 
and a grating which was hidden by the creepers gave 
way, and he fell, and— I — I must tell you, you know 
■ — he has hurt his head. ” 

“ And — and who were you telegraphing to ? ” asked 
Nanny, in a low voice, looking over his shoulder, and 
speaking timidly, as if she had been put into a trance. 

“ Captain Ryders mother, I think : 47 Road, 

South Kensington.” 

“His mother! ” she repeated to herself. And for 
a few moments she either forgot Charlie, or had not 
self-command enough to put any further questions. 

“ He hadn’t time to say much before he fainted 
with the pain, you know,” said the young fellow sooth- 
ingly. “No doubt he was afraid of the shock to you, 
and told me to send for his mother to break it to you.” 

Nanny had turned, and held out her hand mechani- 
cally to each of the girls in turn. 

“ Good-bye,” she said, in a dull voice. “I shall 
never forget how kind you have all been — never.” 

Laura kissed her impulsively, and the two others 


HALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


107 

more timidly followed suit. As for Arthur, afraid to 
face her in her distress, he had disappeared. Charlie 
accompanied her without question on her way 
back to The Grange, and they skirted the green in 
silence. 

Just as they turned to the left into the road that led 
to the big house, she said abruptly : 

“You may as well tell me the truth, because I can 
guess nearly as much as you know. My husband 
was getting out of a window, you say } ” 

“Well — er — he was — er ” 

“Getting out of a window; you said so. Which 
window } ” 

“That little corner-room where the girls found you 
the other day. The study, I think it is — the window 
facing the lawn.” 

“I know. He was following some one ! ” 

She turned upon him so quickly, and uttered these 
words in a tone of such absolute certainty, that for a 
moment he was disconcerted. Recovering himself 
almost on the instant, he said : 

“ It was some tomfoolery of my brother’s. He had 
lighted some magnesium wire to frighten out the cook, 
and was making faces in the glare, and ” 

“That would not have frightened my husband!” 
cried Nanny contemptuously. “Besides, the cook 
was not in the study, I am quite sure.” 

“That is the only way in which I can account for 
the accident, ” said Charlie readily. 

“Oh, but you know more than that,” cried she im- 
patiently. “It is of no use to try to deceive me, you 
see. Won’t you tell me what you saw if I swear that 
it will do no harm to any one to tell me — nothing but 
good — good ? ” 

And now, if Nanny had been doubtful before, she 
knew that the young man possessed more knowledge 
than he would own to ; for he set his teeth hard and 
frowned, and stared ahead of him, to steel himself 
against her entreaties. When at last he felt the temp- 
tation to break faith grew too hard, he said briefly, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


io8 

“Come along-,” and, drawing her arm within his, fairly 
ran the rest of the distance through the gates and up to 
the house, so that she arrived too much out of breath 
for more entreaties. 

Mrs. Bambridge met them in the hall, where she 
had been waiting, expecting the wife’s arrival. She 
threw a motherly arm around Nanny, and told her not 
to worry herself ; he was going on as well as possible. 

The doctor was with him now, and she should see 
him in two minutes. 

“Where is he.-’” asked Nanny. 

“ In the dining-room. The doctor thought it better 
not to take him upstairs, and the study was too small. 
We have made a fire there, and Charlie and Arthur 
took down one of the beds upstairs and made it up 
down here. They are handy lads, my boys,” added 
the good creature, in irrepressible pride of happy 
motherhood. 

“You are all good — so good that I never knew there 
were such kind people in the world before,” said Nanny, 
pressing her hand convulsively. Then she looked 
round her at the candles and lamps they had placed 
about the hall and gallery, and at the grim black 
shadows which filled the gaps between. “ I will wait 
here until the doctor comes out,” she said. 

Mrs. Bambridge tried to persuade her to rest on one 
of the mahogany benches, which were the only seats 
the hall contained. But Nanny could not sit still. 
She paced up and down, up and down, remembering 
that she was not alone, and therefore keeping strict 
control over her feelings, but tortured with fears and 
misery. 

At last they heard a door open and shut, and the 
doctor came quickly along the short passage which 
led from the dining-room to the hall. Mrs. Bambridge 
came forward to meet him, but it was to Nanny that 
he at once addressed himself. 

“Mrs. Ryder, I believe.?” 

“Yes,” said Nanny huskily. “Is there danger.?” 

“I hope not. But your husband is very seriously 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


109 

ill. And your friends here have done wisely in get- 
ting a nurse for him at once. ” 

“ A nurse ? ” echoed Nanny sharply. “ Tm going 
to nurse him.” 

“You are going to help, of course. But it is no 
light matter to nurse such a case as this, and you may 
think yourself lucky that there was a certified nurse 
in the neighbourhood.” 

“You will forgive me, won’t you, dear, for sending 
” began Mrs. Bambridge’s gentle voice. 

“ Forgive you ! She is ready to go down on her 
knees in gratitude, or she will be when she knows all 
about it,” interrupted the doctor. “You might as 
well ask her forgiveness for sending forme.” 

“ Doctor ! ” broke out Nanny in a firm voice, “it 
is very serious. I can tell that by what you have 
said. You will tell me just how serious, won’t you? 
Look, I am quite quiet, and I am not hysterical a 
bit. What is the matter with him?” 

“ He has injured his head.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, that is dreadful ! ” 

‘ ‘ Don’t take it too seriously. His head struck 
against an iron grating, and he is suffering from con- 
cussion of the brain.” 

“He must be kept very quiet ? ” 

“Absolutely quiet.” 

For the moment poor Nanny experienced a sen- 
sation of relief. For a time the horrible doubt might 
rest. While he was ill she was his wife, whatever 
miserable discovery might come afterwards. She 
detained the doctor as he made a step towards the 
door. 

“You are not going away ? ” 

“I shall be back again presently. Don’t be fright- 
ened unnecessarily. It will do you harm. You 
would not like me to forbid you to see him.” 

‘ ‘ Look at me. I am quite calm. I am going to 
see him now.” She raised her great grey eyes, 
widely distended and bright with anxiety, and fixed 
them steadily on his face. “ But 1 want you to be 


no 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


here when his mother comes. It is she, not I, whom 
you have to fear. ” 

"‘Very well. I will be here again in an hour. 
Now, continue to be reasonable and calm as you are, 
and don't try to do too much.'’ 

“I will do just what you tell me to do,” she said 
submissively, as he shook hands with her, and turned 
to speak to Mrs. Bambridge. 

Nanny went straight to the dining-room, opening 
the door softly. All the spare leaves had been taken 
out of the great mahogany table, which was pushed 
into a corner, so that the room seemed completely 
transformed. The nurse, a short and pleasant-look- 
ing woman with quick dark eyes, was moving about 
rapidly yet quietly before the fire. There was a 
screen between the door and the bed. Nanny 
acknowledged the nurse’s courtesy with a faint smile 
and a bend of the head, and stole gently round the 
screen. 

“ He’s quite quiet, ma’am, but you’d better not 
speak to him. He won’t know you hardly. There’s 
no fever yet, but he’s in a stupor most of the 
time.” 

So said the nurse in a low voice, which did not 
disturb the sick man. Indeed, he looked as if 
nothing would disturb him any more. Poor Nanny 
was frightened, and in spite of her promises and 
protestations of calmness, the tears ran down her face, 
and she had hard work not to let her sobs be heard. 
In her distress at the sight of him, lying there so 
pale, and with an expression on his features which 
told, if not of the pain he was suffering then, of that 
which he had suffered only lately, she forgot the 
shock she herself had received that afternoon. There 
was only one thought in her mind as she turned 
away, fearing to lose her self-control altogether. 

1 his thought found utterance as the kind but business- 
like gaze of the nurse met hers. 

“ Will he — do you think lie will get better?” she 
asked beseechingly, so low that the woman could 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


Ill 


only just understand the question without absolutely 
hearing it. 

But Nanny need not have been afraid of the words 
reaching her husband's dulled ears. 

The nurse does not despair, but is never so hopeful 
as the doctor. ^ To impress the anxious inquirer with 
a sense of danger, with which only the highest skill 
and experience can successfully cope, raises the dig- 
nity of one’s profession. So Mrs. Walters looked 
grave, even while she told the young wife not to be 
afraid. 

“We will do all we can for him, you may be quite 
sure. And you, ma’am, must take care of yourself. 
One invalid is enough in a house. ” 

Nanny, who was not half so fragile as she ap- 
peared, gave her a mournful look, full of gratitude 
and entreaty ; and then, feeling her own helplessness, 
she sat down at a little distance from the bed, and kept 
her eyes fixed on the pale face on the pillow. Pres- 
ently she heard the front door open and shut. Rising 
quickly, but without noise, while the remembrance 
of Mrs. Calverley’s words suddenly flooded her mind 
afresh, Nanny left the sick-room and ran to the hall, 
expecting to meet old Mrs. Ryder. It was not she, 
however ; it was Arthur Bambridge, with a heavy 
load of things which he had been sent to fetch. 

“I think I’ve remembered everything,” he said 
with pride, as his mother unburdened him of his 
various parcels. '“I couldn’t bring the shin of beef, 
because Mr. Robbins said he wouldn’t recommend it 
unless we liked it gamey. So I went up into Bicton 
and tried the big butcher’s by the station. But when 
he heard the meat was for the new people at The 
Grange, he would have been torn to pieces by mad 
wolves rather than let me carry it home myself. So 
that will come presently. In fact, the welcoming 
feeling the tradespeople here show ought to warm 
your heart, Mrs. Ryder,” the young fellow went on. 
“ Dicks, the dairyman, wishes you to throw him 
into a frying-pan and poach him if a single one of 


1 12 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


the eggs turns out to be other than new-laid. And 
the grocer would sell his own soul (adulterated, of 
course, like the rest of his goods !) rather than that 
you should complain of soap or salt or sugar. ” 

“Hush! hush! you will drive Mrs. Ryder mad 
with your chatter,” said hi^ mother when he had 
quite finished. 

‘ She thought him the prince of wits, really, and 
would not for the world have cut him short before he 
had said all he wanted to say. 

Nanny, too, liked to hear the boy talk. . But when 
Mrs. Bambridge had carried off the parcels to the 
kitchen, where she had installed one of her own ser- 
vants for the time, Arthur’s tone suddenly changed, 
and he said earnestly : 

“Mrs. Ryder, don’t you believe Charlie if he told 
you that it was my magnesium light that startled 
your husband. He told the girls that, but it is not 
true. I should never forgive myself if it had been 
through me the accident happened. But it was not, 
I was right at the other end of the house. ” 

Nanny nodded her head reassuringly. 

“ Don’t worry yourself about that,” she said. “I 
know it had nothing whatever to do with you.” 

So he went away comforted. But Nanny stole 
away to the study, with all the perplexing and mad- 
dening questions starting up in her mind again. 
Who was it that had looked in at the window and 
startled him? Mrs. Calverley again, perhaps. But 
no ; she had retreated in confusion on seeing that the 
house was occupied. Was it — Lady Ellen ? The 
idea was so appalling that Nanny waited outside the 
study-door, listening, before she ventured inside. 
But there was no sound to be heard, and in a few 
moments she summoned enough courage to open 
the door. 

A rush of cold air blew straight in her face, and 
extinguished the caiidle with which she had taken 
care to provide herself. Then she felt the door slowly 
shutting upon her. She pushed it, trying to force it 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


”3 

wide open, and believing- that the resistance was 
caused by the wind from the open window. The 
more she pushed, however, the more surely it closed 
upon her. She could see, in the faint light, the ten- 
drils of the Virginia creeper blowing about ; but it 
was in no such tempest of wind as would have closed 
the door violently upon her. 

Some one was there — behind the door. 

Nanny, with spasmodic courage, looked round it. 
Her eyes, dazzled with the candlelight, could see 
nothing in the gloom. But she was seized, pushed 
back, and in another moment found herself outside 
the door. Then the key was turned on the inside. 

She listened again. She could hear something this 
time — the opening of the bookcase. Something was 
taken out ; then the bookcase was shut. 

There was a way out into the garden close at hand, 
by a door at the end of a passage. Nanny ran down 
to this door, drew back the bolt, and went out. 

It was quite dark now, and the rain had begun to 
fall again. Nanny ran into a yew-tree, which shed 
upon her a shower of raindrops. That window of 
the study which looked towards the north was the 
first she came to, and Nanny pressed her face against 
the window, but could see nothing. She ran round 
to the window which faced the east. It was still 
wide open, and, in the tangle of down-trodden 
creepers which had been dragged about on the grass, 
Nanny saw the displaced grating which had fallen 
into the area it covered, and caused her husband’s 
fall. With some difficulty she climbed into the room 
and assured herself that no one was now in. Then 
she opened the door, which she found unlocked, and, 
procuring a light, made an exhaustive search. 

A gap had been made on one shelf of the bookcase. 
Although she had studied the titles of the books it 
contained, she could not remember what volumes 
were missing. Further examination, however, 
showed something white at the bottom of the area 
outside the window. With much trouble Nanny 

8 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


fished it out, and found that it was an open book — 
volume i. of a pretty little edition of Byron, in six 
small morrocco-bound volumes, which she had pre- 
viously noticed and admired. On again looking at 
the bookcase, she found that it was< these which were 
missing. 

The intruder, then, had stolen these books, and 
dropped one into the area in a hasty flight. Stolen, 
did she say .? Nanny turned quickly to the title-page. 

In a neat, fine feminine handwriting were the 
words: “Ellen Ryder. From my dear husband, 
Ralph.” 

Nanny leaned out of the open window, feeling sick 
and faint. Was the person who had taken the books 
the owner of them. Lady Ellen .? 

As she asked herself this question the night-breeze 
blew against the face a branch of a sweetbrier bush, 
the tiny thorns pricking her cheeks. She pushed it 
on one side. Clinging to it was a scrap of black 
stuff, damp with rain. Not doubting that it was a 
relic of the intruder, torn off and left behind in her 
flight, Nanny examined it in the candle-light. 

It was a fragment of a woman’s black gossamer 
veil. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


II5 


CHAPTER IX. 

Nanny could no longer have any doubt, as she turned 
over in her hands the scrap of torn black gossamer, 
that it was a woman whose appearance at the 
window had disturbed her husband and been the 
cause of his accident, and who, as soon as the room 
was vacant, had entered and taken the now missing 
volumes from the bookcase. A woman ! Then what 
woman .? 

The rain fell in a never-ceasing drizzle. The wind 
was rising and blowing the dead and dying leaves 
from the trees. They swirled past her, they lodged 
in her hair and on her shoulders as she stood by the 
corner of the house, with the volume of Bryon in one 
hand, asking herself what this secret visit meant. 
What motive could any one have for getting into a 
house by an open window, only to steal a handful of 
old books.? None but a sentimental one, surely. 
Then Nanny opened the volume which had been 
dropped, and read again, in the dim light of the moon 
faintly seen behind the rain-clouds, the name “Ellen 
Ryder. ” 

This Lady Ellen, then, was Dan s first wife. And if 
the sight of her — for Nanny could not doubt that it was 
she whom he had seen and pursued — had startled 
him so much, it could only be because he had be- 
lieved that she was dead. 

A faint moan escaped from the poor child’s lips. 
Her eyes, distended with fear, roamed about in the 
dusky obscurity under the trees ; she saw arms of 
black-robed women in the spread-out branches of the 
cedars on the lawn, heard sighs of distress in the 
rustling of the leaves. But in a few minutes her 
youth and her faith rose in revolt against the dark 
thoughts which had seized possession of her mind. 


1 1 6 RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 

Captain Ryder’s first wife had been described by Mrs. 
Durrant, to the girl at the hotel, as a wicked woman. 
It might be, then, that by her own act she had lost 
the right to the name of wife, in which case her 
appearance at The Grange would alarm and enrage 
Captain Ryder for Nanny’s own sake. And if any 
possible doubt of her husband’s truth remained in her 
mind, there rose to comfort her the belief of the young : 
that although exceptional happiness may be, and 
probably is, in store for them, exceptional misery 
cannot be. Whoever the intruder might be, she was, 
therefore, not Dan’s wife. 

At the same time it was not desirable that one’s 
house should be subject to burglarious entry on the 
part of an unknown woman, however excellent her 
intentions might be. And Nanny, who was not of a 
nature to be either miserable or inactive for long, 
without strong cause, began carefully to pick her way 
over the wet grass to the spot where the trees grew 
thickest, and pushing the great, dripping boughs 
aside, to search every likely hiding-place. Making her 
way thus, with ears and eyes on the alert, she came 
at last to within a few paces of the great front gates, 
and heard some one running fast up the road outside. 

It was a man. He burst open one of the side-gates, 
and entered, panting so vigorously that he had to 
lean for a few moments against the gate-posts to re- 
cover his breath. Nanny could not see him, neither 
could he see her ; it was too dark under the trees for 
that. But she could hear him muttering to himself in 
great excitement as he came slowly forward a step or 
two ; and then, going back to the gates, she heard 
him bolt them all. Who was he } She came forward 
a little nearer to the drive, counting upon the shelter 
of a great copper-beech, the boughs of which hung 
low. But the man caught either a sound or a move- 
ment, and, turning from the gates, rushed towards 
her like a wild beast upon its prey. 

Nanny was too much frightened even to scream. 
It flashed through her mind that her best chance of 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT 


II7 

escaping this man, whom she took for a lunatic, 
would be to “ dodge ” him among the trees, and then 
seize the first opportunity of making for the house. 
But as he came on his mutterings grew loud enough 
for her to hear, and her fear of him gave place to a 
dread much stronger. 

“ This is your Mr. Eley’s doing — this is," he panted 
out. “And now— you’ve once — given us the slip — 
you’ll always be at it, I suppose — and there’ll be a 
nice job — for some of us presently ! ’’ 

This, punctuated by gasps for breath, was the 
burden of the man’s lament as he came along ; and 
Nanny, full of curiosity, and no longer afraid of him, 
stood quite still, hoping to hear more. 

For it was Pickering — perfectly sober, perfectly 
sane, but in a desperate state of anxiety. At last he 
rushed, with a triumphant roar, at the rhododendron 
bush which was hiding her, and shaking with her 
movements. To Nanny’s great disappointment, he 
discovered his mistake at once, and drew himself 
erect and saluted, begging her pardon. 

“Who did you think it was } Who were you look- 
ing for } ’’ cried she eagerly. 

“Why, ma’am, begging your pardon if I’ve discom- 
moded or frightened you by a-rushing on you so 
sudden, but I thought, seeing some one among the 
shrubs at this time o’ night, how it might be some 
tramp got in, and would be getting up to the house 
presently. You know, ma’am, of course I couldn’t 
see who it was in the dark, only somebody moving.’’ 

“ Somebody has been up to the house,’’ said Nanny, 
“ and got in by the study window. Now, you know 
who it was as well as I do.’’ 

But Pickering was proof against her innocent wile's. 
Pie stared before him with as much expression in his 
face as if he had just received the command, “Eyes 
front. " 

“Indeed, ma’am, if you can tell me who it was I 
shall be very glad,’’ said he, with an almost plaintive 
assumption of humble ignorance. 


1 1 8 RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 

** It was Lady Ellen,” said Nanny abruptly. 

He shot one glance at her, and was himself again 
in the twinkling of an eye. But in that half-second 
Nanny had learnt that he knew who Lady Ellen was, 
and that he was alarmed by the thought that she knew 
also. He said nothing, however, being unwilling to 
commit himself further until she, in her innocence, 
had let out the extent of her knowledge, 

“And she got in to get some books with her name 
in. And you have got her shut up somewhere — in 
The White House, perhaps,” she went on with a flash 
of intelligent suspicion ; “ and she has got away, and 
so you are afraid. Pickering, who is she } Tell me 
who she is ? ” 

Nanny spoke in a tone of passionate entreaty, 
which, however, left the old soldier unmoved. He 
shook his head like a mechanical toy. 

“I never heard of her, ma’am,” he said coolly. 
“And there is for certain no lady of that name at 
The White House, seeing how it has been empty and 
shut up for years, and is now let to a single young 
gentleman by the name of Eley.” 

Nanny drew back a little, for a moment discon- 
certed. Only for a moment. 

“ But I heard you say,” she persisted, “ that some- 
one had given you the slip, and that it was all Mr. 
Eley’s doing. Now, what did you mean by that .? ” 

“Mr. Charles Bambridge’s bull-dog, ma’am,” an- 
swered Pickering promptly. 

Nanny knew that Charlie Bambridge had a bull-dog, 
although she knew equally well that the animal was 
not the cause of Pickering’s uneasiness. 

“ But I heard you bolt the gates ! You would not 
have done that to prevent a dog’s getting out ! ” 

“Not any other dog, ma’am,” answered the man 
unabashed; “but Crib has more slyness than most 
Christians. ” 

Nanny saw that it was of no use to try to learn 
anything from this man ; therefore she turned impa- 
tiently from him towards the house. Remembering, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


119 

however, that Pickering knew nothing of the accident 
to her husband, she said : 

“ Captain R3^der has had a severe fall through this. 
He jumped out of the stud)^ window to follow what 
you say was only a dog, and has concussion of the 
brain. ” 

i'he effect of this announcement on Pickering was 
much greater than she had expected. He was silent 
for some minutes, except for half-audible ejaculations. 
At last he said, eyeing the lady narrowly in the 
gloom : 

“Concussion of the brain! That’s bad. He’ll be 
full of queer fancies when he gets better, and think 
he sees all sorts of queer things, won’t he, ma’am ? ” 

Nanny began to tremble. These words were the 
echo of her own fears. 

“Oh no!” she cried earnestly; “I hope not — I 
think not. I must ask the doctor. ” 

“Ah, but doctors don’t always know, ma’am, 
’specially with gentlemen like the Captain, that’s been 
in India, where they pick up all sorts of things that 
don’t get understood over here. What with the heat 
and the drink, ma’am, India does plenty harm to a 
many gentlemen.” 

Nanny said nothing to this, but she shuddered. 
That concussion of the brain would be more serious 
to her husband than to another man, being likely to 
lead to a recurrence of the mental malady from which 
he had formerly suffered, she could not doubt. And 
then, amidst the rush of wild, unhappy thoughts 
which chased each other through her mind, there 
came the remembrance of a curious reticence which 
would come into her husband’s manner when, in the 
course of conversation, certain references to the past 
were made. 

She stopped short in the middle of the drive, trying 
to recall some of those references, to find out what 
they had been. Pickering respectfully reminded her 
that it was raining ; but, as she paid no heed, except 
by a brief “Thank you,” the old gardener went on 


120 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


at a rapid pace towards the house, leaving the young 
lady absorbed in her own thoughts. 

For she had just remembered that one of those 
moments of reticence on the part of her husband had 
been occasioned by some chance allusion to the 
story of a faithless wife. She walked on to the house 
slowly, shivering, not so much with the damp and 
the cold as with a sick sensation of doubt, miserable 
doubt, and fear. She had to pass the stables, a de- 
serted pile of red brick, corresponding with the house. 
Most of the windows were choked by a neglected 
growth of creepers, and the paved space in front w^as 
green with moss and grass. The coach-house door 
was ajar, however, and from within came a low mur- 
mur of voices. Her heart beating high with excite- 
ment, Nanny crossed the old stone pavement with 
light steps. Quietly as she came, however, she was 
not quiet enough to deceive the old soldier. Just as 
she reached the coach-house door, Pickering came 
out, closing it behind him. 

If she could only get past him, Nanny felt that she 
should be one step nearer to the secret of the Ryders, 
for she should see the intruder whose appearance had 
startled her husband. But that was not Pickering’s 
intention. He stood outside the closed coach-house 
door, affecting not to understand that she wished to 
enter, until they both heard another door shut in the 
interior of the building. Then Nanny knew that it 
was the intention of the person inside to escape by a 
back way, and retreating at once, as if offended, she 
walked towards the house until she was out of Picker- 
ing’s sight, and then ran to the back of the stables. 

She was in time to see some one escaping from the 
building, crashing through the shrubs in the direction 
of the side-door in the wall of the garden, through 
which Mrs. Durrant had passed on her way to The 
White House on the occasion of Nanny’s first visit to 
Bicton. Nanny went in hot pursuit, but she was too 
late. The wet boughs closed behind the retreating 
figure, the outline of which it was impossible to make 


RALPB RYDER OF BRENT. 


12 


out in the darkness, and the door was opened and 
slammed to before she could reach it. When she 
looked out into the road, no one was in sight but the 
driver of a cab, from the inside of which old Mrs. 
Ryder’s voice was heard calling shrilly : 

“ You’ve passed the gate, you’ve passed it !” 

Nanny ran back to the house without a moment’s 
delay. She wanted to be in her husband’s room when 
his mother came in. Mrs. Bambridge was just out- 
side the sick-room ; she was taking something to the 
nurse. Nanny told her who was coming. 

“Old Mrs. Ryder!” echoed Mrs. Bambridge. 
“Dear me! A sad home-coming after all these 
years ! ” 

“ All these years ! But she visited the place every 
year, did she not ? ” 

“Never. Mrs. Durrant told me, on one of the 
very few occasions I ever spoke to her, that the old 
lady had never been inside this house for thirty 
years. I don’t know how Mrs. Durrant knew. I 
suppose the old gardener, Pickering, told her. ” 

Nanny entered the sick-room in a state of fresh 
bewilderment. If this was old Mrs. Ryder’s idea of 
managing an estate, it was not surprising that The 
White House had been neglected. The only matter 
for astonishment was the excellent order in which 
The Grange had been kept. She stole round the 
screen and looked at her husband. He was staring 
at the rail at the foot of the bed, and muttering to 
himself. From his left hand, which was just under 
the bed-clothes, the nurse was in the act of taking 
something. 

It was an old letter, which he had crushed up in 
his fingers. The nurse handed it to his wife. 

‘ ‘ He has held it in his hand ever since the accident, ” 
she said, as Nanny took the crumpled paper, which 
was hot and limp and damp from the treatment it had 
received. “ I could not get it from him while he was 
conscious. It seemed to worry him that he could 
not read it, for he kept carrying it up and down, up 


122 


ALPH RYDEI^ OF BRENT. 


and down, to and from his face, and seemed lo try 
to hide it from me. 

Nanny took it quite quietly, and said ‘ ‘ Thank you, 
nurse,” in a steady voice as she did so. But she was 
in a tumult of emotion, for in an instant she had rec- 
ognised the slim, old-fashioned handwriting of the 
inscription inside the volume of Byron. 

There was not time to take the letter away and 
read it in private. Mrs. Ryder might be in at any 
moment. Nanny never asked herself whether she 
had a right to read it. Perhaps such strict scruples 
were scarcely to be expected in a young wife tortured 
by jealousy and caught in a network of mysteries 
which no one would explain to her. 

With one guilty look towards the bed, one depre- 
catory prayer to her unconscious husband to forgive 
her, Nanny crossed the room to the mantelpiece, 
where a small shaded lamp was burning, and where the 
screen shielded her from the stare of the vacant eyes. 
Quickly she spread out the crumpled papers, for it 
was a long letter — there were two sheets of it — and 
began to read. 

This was the letter : 

‘ ‘ Dear Ralph, 

‘‘ I cannot go on with this farce any longer. 
That is why I have gone to mamma s to-day, so that 
1 might write this from her house. I am not coming 
back. What would be the use ? The same old round, 
the same continual jealousy of yours, the same quar- 
rels, and then one of your mad outbursts. Of course, 

1 know what you will say — that it is all my fault, 
that it I had never made you jealous you would 
never have taken to drink. But was it all my fault .? 
Was it my fault that the child could not live in India, 
and had to he sent home.? Was it mv fault that 1 
i.dl ill, and had to be sent to England after her .? And 
'>ncc here, could I live like a nun? 1 might have 
d nc, ].eihaps, if 1 had been fift,v, and hideous; but 
• ' as 1 am, it was impossible. I did not even 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


123 

try. In such a case one man is sure to be singled 
out by a woman s kind friends as ihe man. But I 
don’t care for Colonel Garside ; I never did care for 
him. It is not on his account that I am leaving you, 
or, rather, it is because of your perpetual use of his 
name when you want to quarrel with me, but not for 
any feeling I have for him. 

“It is of no use for you to come here for me. I 
shall be gone. And I won’t receive any letters from 
you. Entreaties and reproaches will make no differ- 
ence, for my love for you will never come back. I 
know you are handsome and that you love me, but 
you have made your face more repulsive to me than 
if you had been ugly ; and of what good is love which 
is like the fitful passion of a wild animal rather than 
the calm affection of a reasoning being .? 

“ You had better get a governess for the child. 
She is getting too much for nurse. Or your mother 
would come and look after her. She loves children, 
and has all the proper woman’s ways with them that 
I never had or could have. And you need not try 
to work upon my feelings by means of the child, be- 
cause you might just as well try to work upon the 
feelings of the house she was born in. She is your 
child, and that is enough for me. I don’t wish to 
have anything to do with you or any one belonging 
to you any more as long as I live. Of course, you 
and everybody will say I am a wicked, heartless 
woman. But I don’t care — I don’t care. I would 
rather be wicked than live with you again. 

“ Your unhappy wife, 

“Ellen Ryder.” 

This letter was undated, and was punctuated, in the 
old-fashioned slipshod manner, with dashes and notes 
of exclamation. Nanny read it through with a grow- 
ing feeling of horror and disgust. The story it told 
seemed clear as daylight. Ralph, her husband, was 
then, at old as he looked, and had had for a wife this 
“Ellen Ryder,” who must be the “Lady Ellen ’’spoken 


124 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


of by old Miss Anstruther to Meg, and by Mrs. Cal- 
verley to Nanny herself, as being still alive. Dan 
must, therefore, have divorced her ; for although in 
her letter she declared herself innocent of the great 
wrong, Nanny found it impossible to rely upon the 
truthfulness of a woman whose every word proved 
her to be selfish, cold, and heartless. 

The tears rushed to Nanny’s eyes, and her heart 
glowed with a passionate sympathy for her husband 
such as she had never felt before. It was the old 
story. The man who “has suffered,” or who has 
the reputation of having suffered, from the miscon- 
duct of some other woman, will always out-distance, 
with an inexperienced young girl, the man who has 
no such “interesting” record. Of course, there is 
the presumption that he will know, by comparison, 
how rightly to value the woman who treats him well. 
Nanny forgave her husband his suppression of the 
fact of his first marriage and its consequences — for- 
gave him even the fiction by which he represented 
himself never to have cared for a woman before he 
met her. He had forgotten the fact. The past had 
faded away like some frightful nightmare ; why con- 
jure up its hideous images again? For that troubled 
time had been disturbed by other horrors. It seemed 
inconceivable to Nanny now, knowing Dan as she 
did, as an adoring husband to herself and the most 
temperate of men, that he should ever have been 
driven, by his passion for a heartless woman, to drink 
as a solace. But the words of this letter put this fact 
beyond a doubt ; and old Mrs. Ryder’s warnings and 
the man Pickering’s words had confirmed it. 

Nanny could understand, after this first terrible mat- 
rimonial experience of her son’s the fear and reluctance 
felt by the old lady at the idea of his tempting Fate 
for a second time. Lady Ellen herself had said “she 
loves the child, and has all the proper woman’s ways 
with her. ” The child ! What had become of her? 
If living, she would be grown up by this time. But 
Nanny had certainly neveT heard of her before, and 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


125 

she came to the conclusion that, having been born 
in India, and therefore delicate, she must have died 
in childhood. 

She looked again at the letter, examining it carefully. 
In spite of the feminine absence of a written date, 
the fine sloping, angular handwriting, the thin dis- 
coloured note-paper and faded ink, and the creases 
into which the letter had worn, testified to its being 
at least a quarter of a century old. She was poring 
over these indications by the light of the lamp on the 
mantelpiece, when a soft step behind startled her, 
and caused her to turn. 

Old Mrs. Ryder was standing there, with her faded 
blue eyes fixed in curiosity and apprehension on the 
letter in her daughter-in-law s hand. She must have 
seen it before, Nanny thought, and must be suffering 
again from the shock the heartless missive had given 
her ; for the little white-haired lady was shaking from 
head to foot, and her pale face looked bloodless with 
anguish. Nanny passed the letter gently before her 
eyes, and Mrs. Ryder looked up at her and tried to 
speak ; but at first the withered lips only mumbled 
indistinctly. At last she whispered : 

‘ ‘ Where did you find it 1 

“ In Dan s hands. He must have been reading it 
when the accident happened.’’ 

The wrinkled face became on the instant distorted 
' with terror. Old Mrs. Ryder bent her head and 
pressed one shaking hand to her forehead, while her 
limbs trembled as she stood. 

“Again, again!’’ she moaned — “when I had 
hoped the old story was forgotten ! ’’ She looked up 
suddenly into Nanny’s face. “ And you — you know 
it too, then ! ” she murmured, in almost hysterical 
terror. “Oh, after all these years ! What shall we 
do ? what shall we do .? ” 

She was startled into resumption of her self-control 
by the appearance of the nurse, who came round the 
screen with a warning face. The old lady pressed 
her handkerchief hastily to her eyes, and crossed the 


126 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


room to look at her son. After standing quietly for 
some minutes, she asked the nurse for the fullest 
details concerning the accident. These Mrs. Walters 
was unable to give, so she asked young Mrs. Ryder 
to come forward, and retreated herself to the fire- 
place. 

‘ ‘ He was sitting in the study, as we suppose, ” said 
Nanny, in a dry voice, ‘ ‘ when he must have been 
alarmed by the appearance of some one outside the 
window — some one he did not expect to see. We 
think he opened the window and jumped out in pur- 
suit, but falling through the grating over the area, 
injured his head.” 

“Some one outside the window!” echoed Mrs. 
Ryder, looking at her curiously. “And who was it ” 

“I think you know better than I. Was it Lady 
Ellen .? ” 

The question, which Nanny took care to shoot out 
suddenly, gave the old lady a shock of surprise. 

“Lady Ellen!” she repeated, faltering, as she 
gazed into her daughter-in-law’s face more searchingly 
than ever. 

“Yes. Look,” Nanny said, in a very low voice, 
so that neither nurse nor patient could hear, meeting 
the gaze of the elder woman with one quite as pene- 
trating, “ I know more than this letter tells me. 
This” — and she touched the crumpled sheets of paper 
— “ only tells me that Dan had a wife before he 
married me ” — at that old Mrs. Ryder's eyes suddenly 
fell, as it were slinking away from the young woman’s 
piercing look — “that she was a bad, heartless wife 
and mother, deserting her husband and her children, 
without giving a thought to any one but herself ” — 
old Mrs. Ryder bowed her head in assent — “faithless 
to her husband, too, most likely ” 

The old lady interrupted for the first time, but 
timidly. 

“Not that, I think. She does not own to that in 
the letter, does she ? ” 

There was a pause. The light of a fresh perplexity, 
a fresh terror, came into Nanny’s face. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


27 


“Then if she did not decieve her husband, he could 
not divorce her. . And she is alive — I know that 
she is alive ! ” she cried, in a choking- voice. 

The old lady did not answer at once. It seemed 
to the unfortunate young wife, hanging on her words, 
that she was casting about for a loophole of escape. 
When she spoke, it was in the same meek, tentative 
tone as before. 

“Lady Ellen never was my son’s wife,” she 
quavered out.,. “Won’t you be satisfied with that, 
and — and let this old scandal rest ? ” 

“No, no, no! I will not be satisfied, any more 
than you were satisfied when you knew that he was 
going to marry me. You must have felt that he was 
not morally free, or you could have had no objection 
to his taking another wife. ” 

“ I — I had other reasons, as you know.” 

Old Mrs. Ryder flashed another of those curious, 
inquiring looks at her. 

The shadow of a terrible fear came over Nanny’s 
face. 

‘ ‘ Tell me — tell me the truth ! ” she whispered 
hoarsely. “ Had he been deceived into thinking her 
dead, when all the time she was alive ? ” 

There was a pause again. Old Mrs. Ryder’s reti- 
cence was horrible to Nanny, implying, as it seemed 
to her, that there was so much to conceal that silence 
was the only safety until every course had been 
fully weighed. 

“And then,” said Nanny suddenly, seizing the old 
lady by the slender little wrist and looking down in- 
to her face, “there is the child. What about her.? ” 

All the withered flesh on the old lady’s thin face 
seemed to shrivel, and to leave bare and shining the 
glassy eyes, the yellow teeth. She shook and swayed 
under Nanny’s touch as if the life had gone out of her 
aged limbs. 

“The child! Ah, the child!” she muttered 
hoarsely. Then, putting her quivering lips up as 
near to Nanny’s ear as she could, she gasped out t 
‘ ‘ Never ask, child ! Never — never try to know I ” 


128 


RALPH HYDEl! OF BRENT. 


CHAPTER X. 

The entrance of the doctor, who came into the room 
just as old Mrs. Ryder was uttering her passionate 
warning, was a welcome relief both, to Nanny and 
to her mother-in-law. The young wife knew that 
she would get from the elder lady no satisfactory 
answer to any of her questions ; the latter was most 
anxious to escape from the ordeal of facing those 
searching eyes. 

It seemed to Nanny, whose head ached, and who 
was altogether in a querulous, excited state, that the 
doctor and her mother-in-law made common cause 
in treating her as if she were too young and frivolous 
a person to be of much account in the house. The 
doctor would not hear of her sitting up with her hus- 
band, and said, “You could do no good, and only 
wear yourself out,” in a tone which hurt her, 
making her feel useless and in the way. Mrs. Barn- 
bridge wanted to take her home with her, and old 
Mrs. Ryder seconded the suggestion with vigour. 
But Nanny insisted on remaining at The Grange. 
She did not feel satisfied that the intruder of the 
afternoon had really left the premises. There were 
plenty of nooks and corners both in the house and 
about the grounds, where a person familiar with the 
place might remain hidden for hours. Nanny 
knew that she should never feel safe again until she 
met this person face to face, had found out whether 
it was or was not Lady Ellen, and what the real 
position of the lady was. 

Until very late that night the unhappy young wife 
wandered, restless and lonely, about the house, listen- 
ing at the door of the unused rooms, keeping watch 
in the long half-lighted corridors, on the alert at every 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


129 

sound. Old Mrs. Ryder and the nurse had finally 
turned her out of the sick-room, and told her to go to 
bed. Mrs. Bambridge had gone home, leaving one 
of her servants, who was to sleep on the ground- 
floor, so as to be within call of the nurse. A bed- 
room on the floor above had been hastily prepared 
for Nanny, who retired to it reluctantly, childishly 
frightened by the old-fashioned full-tested bedstead. 
So much, indeed, did it heighten the feelings of un- 
easiness and fear which had haunted the poor child 
all the evening, that she got upon the bed and tried 
to pull the curtains down. But they were so securely 
fixed that she had to give up the attempt, afraid of 
bringing down the whole rickety wooden erection 
upon her head. 

Well, then, all she could do, she decided as she 
stepped carefully on to the floor again, was to ex- 
amine the room carefully before going to bed and to 
be sure to lock the door. She had taken care to note, 
when she came up into the room earlier in the even- 
ing, that there was a key in the door. After making 
the circuit of the room, therefore, looking under the 
bed, under the muslin-covered hangings of the old- 
fashioned dressing-table, and into the cupboards in 
the wall, Nanny reached the door. 

But the key had been taken away. 

Small as this matter was, poor Nanny, in her ex- 
cited state, felt that she wanted to scream on making 
this discovery. Common-sense suggested that Mrs. 
Bambridge’s servant, having to sleep on the ground 
floor in a strange house, had taken the key in the 
hope that it might fit the door of the room she was 
to use. But Nanny was more in the mood for enter- 
taining the marvellous than the homely and the prob- 
able, and her excited imagination pictured the un- 
known and mysterious Lady Ellen as having secreted 
herself about "the house and possessed herself of the 
key for some purpose antagonistic to Nanny's own 
comfort and repose. She felt that it would be too 
childish to trouble the occupants of the sick-room 

9 


130 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


again about what they would consider a trifle ; so she 
barricaded the door with a long chintz-covered settee 
on casters, which stood under one of the windows, 
and presently went to bed. 

She was restless, and could not sleep for a long 
time. At last she fell into an uneasy doze, troubled 
by feverish dreams. A dozen times, in the course of 
the next two hours, she started into wakefulness, and 
lay for a few minutes a prey to miserable imaginings 
before falling again into the same unrestful slumber. 
At last having grown used to this, and being by this 
time extremely sleepy, she awoke and lay with closed 
eyes. The same fancies as before hung in her still 
half-slumbering mind : unknown voices, half-heard 
sounds, were troubling her. Through it all she asked 
herself wearily when this was going to end in sound 
sleep. Then the voices seemed to die away, but the 
other noises grew louder and more distinct ; strange 
creakings and mumblings, and a sound like the tear- 
ing of stuff. Roused a little more, Nanny turned over 
on her side, and her face touched a soft, woman’s hand. 
An attempt was at once made to withdraw this hand, 
but Nanny seized it, and inflicted upon it a long deep 
scratch with her own nails before the intruder suc- 
ceeded in freeing it. 

“Who’s that.? who’s there?” Nanny asked with 
almost a shriek, as she sat up and peered about her 
vainly in the darkness. 

There was no answer, no sound. Nanny leapt out 
of bed and ran towards the door, but she fell over 
something and rolled on the floor, hurting herself; 
not so severely, however, but that the next moment 
she was up again. For in that moment of time she 
had heard stealthy footsteps rapidly crossing the room 
towards the door, and knew that it was the intention 
of the intruder, whose eyes had become more accus- 
tomed to the darkness than Nanny’s own, to escape 
under cover of this accident. 

Nanny was a high-spirited young woman, and could 
throw off her natural feminine cowardice very effec- 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


131 

tually when she was excited. It was the settee which 
she had placed against the door over which she had 
fallen ; the fact that it had been displaced was proof 
enough, if proof were needed, that someone had entered 
the room. Nanny replaced it against the door with one 
rapid push, and stood against it, scouring the dark- 
ness with eager eyes, and remaining as motionless as 
possible, in order that she might hear the least move- 
ment on the part of the intruder. But for a long time 
she listened in vain for the slightest sound. 

The complete stillness, of course, frightened her 
much more than an attack would have done. Nanny 
even began to feel half inclined to steal out of the 
room and wait outside the door. But a dogged de- 
termination to get to the bottom of this mystery at 
all hazards conquered the suggestions of timidity. She 
sat down on the settee and waited. 

She remained sitting motionless, and always on 
the watch, until the first rays of dawn began to steal 
through the drawn curtains of the windows. Nanny 
grew more uneasy, as the affair seemed to grow more 
mysterious. She could have seen an approaching 
figure in the faint light which now struggled in. And 
she kept her eyes always in the direction of the win- 
dows, so that she might be prepared for an attack. 
An attack ! — for Nanny did not disguise to herself 
her fear . that it was a lunatic with whom she had to 
contend. 

At last, when the light had grown stronger, the 
strain on her staring eyes became so painful that, for 
one moment, Nanny had to close them. Scarcely had 
she done so when, with almost inconceivable rapidity, 
she found herself overthrown on to the ground by a 
rapid jerk of the settee away from the door. Nanny 
uttered a scream and a cry of “ Help ! ” but by the 
time she had risen to her feet certain soft sounds, grow- 
ing fainter and fainter, along the corridor towards the 
staircase, told her that she had been outwitted. She 
gave chase as far as the head of the staircase, but m 
vain. And the sound of the closing of a distant door, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


132 

which she believed to be the back-door into the garden, 
told her that pursuit was useless. 

Sick, cold, frightened, trembling, Nanny returned 
to her room. The light was now quite strong enough 
for her to see how she, watching as intently as she 
had done, had in her turn been watched, and more 
successfully. The bed-valance was caught up, prov- 
ing that someone had been watching her from under 
the bed ; and as the light fell full on Nanny, this 
“someone” had been able to take immediate ad- 
vantage of the momentary closing of the tired eyes. 

The astounding agility with which the unseen 
watcher had crept out, pulled the settee forward, and 
dashed through the door was the first thing which 
struck Nanny with amazement and fear ; then followed 
a momentary paralysis of terror at the thought that 
during all that time during which she had sat on the 
settee by the door, she had been under the gaze of a 
pair of unseen, malevolent eyes. 

Whose eyes } 

Nanny vowed to herself that on the following day 
she would know, whatever the knowledge might cost 
her. 

In the meantime she could not pass the rest of the 
night in that room by herself. She dressed hastily, 
and went down stairs to her husband’s sick-room. 

Entering softly without knocking, she found old 
Mrs. Ryder dozing in an armchair by the dying 
embers of the fire. Her head was bent forward on 
her breast, and she did not hear Nanny enter. Even 
in her agitation, the young lady could not help smil- 
ing to herself at this discovery : for in the library of 
petty fictions which no old lady is without, Mrs. Ryder 
treasured up the belief that in an armchair she could 
never close her eyes. Nanny glanced at the bed. 
Dan was lying quietly, with his eyes closed ; but his 
face was flushed, and his lips moved almost inces- 
santly. 

Nanny crept up to the bedside, and a deep sigh 
escaped her as she leant wistfully over him. Oh, he 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


133 


had never wittingly done any harm to her, or to any 
woman — Nanny was sure of that. He was her dear 
husband, her own darling old Dan ! Nothing could 
alter that ; nothing should alter that. Nanny found 
herself saying- this half aloud, with clenched teeth. 
For there was that horrible fear at the bottom of her 
heart ; there was this cry always ringing in her ears : 

‘ ‘ Lady Ellen ! Lady Ellen ! ” 

Neither her sigh nor her whispered words disturbed 
him, nor her quick-drawn breath, as she leaned over 
him in a rapture of yearning love. When at last she 
drew back, a board creaked under her tread. The 
sound did not rouse her husband, but old Mrs. Ryder 
started in her chair. 

“ Is it you, nurse ? ” she asked. 

And the old lady shivered. Nanny came up to her 
and made her look up, blinking in the feeble light of 
the night-light. 

“No, it is I.” 

“You, child! You are not to sit up watching. 
Go back to bed at once. Dan would never allow it. ” 

“I can’t go back. Whatever you say, I’m going 
to spend the rest of the night here,” said Nanny, with 
determination. “I have had a fright ; someone got 
into my room.” 

‘ ‘ Into — your — room .? ” repeated the old lady in a 
troubled voice. 

“ Yes. We will talk about it to-morrow morning. 
In the meantime, I’m going to stay down here.” 

The old lady looked as if she would have liked to 
ask some more questions ; but as the nurse, roused 
by their voices, now entered to take her turn at watch- 
ing, Nanny escaped for the present. Taking a chair 
near her husband’s bed-side, the young wife, now 
wide awake, and with her mind at its feenest, as it 
happens to us all during a wakeful night, thought over 
all the little mysteries which had already disturbed 
the course of her short married life, and came to a 
decision before morning as to what she should do. 
Then, as the light grew strong outside, sleep over- 


134 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


came her at last, and seized so firmly upon her tired 
senses that the nurse was able to put a pillow under 
her head and a footstool under her feet without rous- 
ing her. 

When she awoke it was nine o’clock. She was full 
of self-reproach at first, shamefaced and angry with 
herself for her inability to watch by her husband s 
side. But the nurse soothed her with assurances that 
Captain Ryder was going on quite as well as could be 
expected, and that it was the consciousness of that 
fact which had enabled her to sleep. Comforted, 
though not convinced, Nanny went upstairs for her 
morning bath. The missing key of her bedroom-door 
she found lying on the floor near the mat outside ; she 
would not trust it in the lock again, but put it in her 
pocket. In the breakfast-room she found old Mrs. 
Ryder looking much more aged and infirm than ever 
before, as a result of her share in the night’s nursing. 

The elder lady showed many more signs of a dis- 
turbed state of mind than the younger, eating scarcely 
any breakfast, and starting nervously at every sound. 
Nanny, indeed, felt half stupefied from the effects of 
violent excitement followed by heavy slumber. The 
poignancy of the night’s terror being past, and her 
mind made up, she seemed even stolidly indifferent, 
and cast scarcely a glance more than the barest courtesy 
demanded, at her mother-in-law's face. When the 
old lady left the table she rose too, and was going out 
of the room when Mrs. Ryder stopped her. 

“ Antonia, my dear, I wish to speak to you.” 

Nanny turned, and waited for the next words with 
disconcerting passivity. The little old lady — a little 
porcelain creature she was, always dainty with old 
lace and jewellery, and with a faint suggestion of 
lavender and pot-pourri in the folds of her soft silk- 
gowns — drew about her more closely a tiny shawl of 
embroidered Indian muslin she was wearing, and 
came up to her daughter-in-law with the graceful 
movements and pretty affected dignity of the ‘ ‘ Keep- 
sake ” period to which she belonged. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


135 

*‘You had a fright last night, my dear, you say. 
Tell me about it.” 

Nanny did so at once, without hesitation or reser- 
vation. Mrs. Ryder listened quietly, and from her 
manner it would have been impossible to tell whether 
she guessed who the intruder was or not. Nanny, 
however, had no doubts on this point. 

“ It was Lady Ellen, I know,” she said, with simple 
conviction; “the only questions in my mind are: 
whether she is sane, and what she wanted to do to 
me.” 

“Do to you, child! You surely cannot suppose 

“ I don’t suppose she took the key out of my door, 
and so prepared her entrance, without some object in 
view. I can't tell what her object was, but I caught 
her hand feeling about my pillow, and I should be 
much more comfortable in a house where I didn't 
have such mysterious visitors.” 

Nanny felt brave by daylight ; besides, she thought 
she saw her way to finding a solution of the mystery. 
Her companion looked at her curiously. 

“Of course,” said the elder lady, after a pause, “if 
such a thing were to happen again, you would write 
to your father t ” 

“ Oh no ; indeed I should not 1 ” answered Nanny 
at once. “ He would say that I had chosen of my 
own free will to marry Captain Ryder, and that the 
number of wives he had was therefore my look-out.” 

“Your sister Meg, then .? ” 

“No. What could poor Meg do ? It would only 
make her unhappy.” 

‘ ‘ What do you mean to do, then .? ” 

‘ ‘ To find out the whole story from someone who 
knows it — Mrs. Calverley.” 

Into the elder lady's face there came a faint tinge 
of colour. 

“Mrs. Calverley.? So that old busybody is still 
alive 1 Well, you will hear something from her 
certainly, but no one is less likely to tell you the 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


136 

truth about any thing she* ended rather snappishly. 

Through all this talk Nanny noted with astonish- 
ment and annoyance how the mystification to which 
she was being subjected delighted the old lady, who 
revelled in the perplexity on Nanny’s face with a 
small minds keenest enjoyment. Nanny turned 
abruptly and with scant courtesy to the door, impa- 
tient Avith such trifling, long before old Mrs. Ryder 
was tired of watching her puzzled face. 

Carrying out the intention she had formed in the 
night, Nanny then ran upstairs, put on her hat, and 
went in search of Mrs. Calverley’s house. It was a 
pretty, picturesque whitewashed house, with a very 
old roof of red pan-tiles, standing back a little way 
from the road in a nest of trees. 

“And that ’ere s the Admiral — Admiral Calverley,” 
said the boy who was acting as her guide, pointing to 
a rather vapid-looking blue-eyed old gentleman in a 
straw hat, who was picking snails off the dahlias in 
his garden. Nanny went up to the house, while the 
Admiral, who was on the other side of a great bush of 
flowering trees — lilac, laburnum, and guelder-rose, 
the blossom-time of all of which was past — disap- 
peared iiTto the building by a side-door, with a trans- 
parent pretence of not having seen her. 

Nothing is so easy to understand as the “not at 
home ” of a servant who knows that his mistress is 
in, but that she does not wish to see the visitor. 
Nanny blushed deeply, therefore, when she received 
this answer, and set her lips tightly together, with her 
mind quite made up that she would see this exclusive 
old lady, and before long, too. She knew very well 
that the Admiral' had seen her, and that he had gone 
into the house to report upon her to his wife. 

The rest of the day Nanny spent chiefly in her 
husband's sick-room, avoiding any other cljance of a 
tete-a-tete with her mother-in-law. In the meantime 
two of the servants she had engaged arrived, and the 
desolate look the whole house had worn began to 
disappear. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


137 

A little before six o’clock Charlie Bambridge came, 
and Nanny, delighted to have a chance of speaking 
to someone young and cheerful, went at once to the 
drawing-room, and, greeted him warmly. 

“ My chief purpose in coming to trouble you at a 
time when I’m sure you don’t want to be bothered 
with visitors,” said he, when he had made inquiries 
about Captain Ryder, “ is to apologise for the barbaric 
conduct of — of all the rest of us the other day. I'here 
is just this excuse for the young ones,” he went on 
loftily, ‘ ‘ that Mrs. Winton, a widow who lives with 
her father next door to us, has taken to fertilising her 
garden with fish manure, the Arabian perfume of 
which is so strong that she has had to buy off the 
objections of all the neighbours by the gift of a flower- 
potful all round. My bull-dog ate up our lot, and 
liked it. But it didn’t agree with him, and I trust 
that this experience will have the effect of disgusting 
him with foreign kickshaws. But it was inexcusable 
of them, all the same to trespass upon your property, 
as I meant to have told you yesterday.” 

The young fellow was evidently nervous, and 
seemed at first anxious to avoid any serious conver- 
sation. Nanny assured him, truly enough, that the 
ready kindness of his family had been the only bright 
spot, so far, in her experience of The Grange. She 
began to wonder why he had come. He had clearly 
something upon his mind, and did not know how to 
unburden himself of it. Nanny, who had something 
upon her mind, broke through their mutual reserve 
first. 

“You were with my husband yesterday when the 
accident happened,” she said abruptly, when there 
was a pause. 

‘ ‘ No ; I came up a minute later — when I heard the 
crash of his fall, in fact. I had left him in the study, 
looking through some old letters and books.” 

“ Yes,” said Nanny quickly, “but you know what 
caused him to leap out of the window ! You saw 
who it was that startled him. It was a woman.” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


138 

Charlie answered without looking at her. 

“Was it? Then I give you my word I didn't see 
her, Mrs. Ryder," he said, with so much force and 
appearance of sincerity that Nanny would have be- 
lieved him but for his evident reluctance to meet her 
eyes. 

“ You give me your word you did not see the per- 
son whose appearance at the window startled my 
husband? " 

But he would not commit himself. He reddened, 
stammered, and finally said : 

“Ask Captain Ryder when he gets well. I saw 
that he was startled, but — but really very little more. 
And — and as for being annoyed by inquisitive women, 
that was just what I came to speak about," he went 
on, as if breathing more freely now that he had got 
on to safer ground. ‘ ‘ There is a meddlesome old 
woman whom you met at our house yesterday, Mrs. 
Calverley, who has been spying about here ever since 
she heard you were coming." 

“Yes, she was here yesterday." 

“She is always here, it seems. Now, it appears 
the nurse told our servant, and the girl told us, that 
you were frightened last night by someone, Mrs. 
Ryder. " 

“It is quite true — I was," said Nanny, blushing. 

“ Oh, you mustn't be annoyed at our hearing about 
it. If you ever find ablackbeetle in the dining-room, 
that blackbeetle will be all over the village in two 
hours. But I thought it was better to let you know 
about this old woman, so that you might circumvent 
her. I have no doubt it was she who frightened you, for 
she was lurking about outside your gates quite late 
last night." 

‘ ‘ Thank you very much for telling me, " said Nanny. 

She did not attempt to undeceive the young fellow, 
who had evidently heard a very garbled version of 
the story of her fright. She thanked him for his visit, 
sent grateful messages to his mother and sisters, and 
promised him that, as soon as her husband got well, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


139 


they would let him give them a row “ up the river 
somewhere in his boat. For, next to his bulldog 
and his bicycle, his boat occupied the largest share 
of this everyday young man’s heart. 

When he had gone, Nanny put on her hat and went 
out into the garden. If this Mrs. Calverley was 
“ always spying about,” as Charlie Bambridge had 
said, she would be on the watch until she caught her 
and forced her to give an explanation of the mystery 
about Lady Ellen. Nanny looked out of the principal 
gates, and then out of the side-gate, but it was not 
until the third reconnoitring expedition she made that 
evening that she at last caught sight of the Admiral’s 
wife walking slowly up and down on the opposite 
side of the road. It was ten o’clock and quite dark ; 
but as she came under the light of a gas-lamp, Nanny 
recognised and ran up to her at once, and placed her- 
self resolutely in front of the old lady, blocking the 
footway, determined not to be passed. 

“Mrs. Calverley, I think she said, in a voice 
which sounded timid because she was trembling so 
much from excitement. “ I called upon you this 
morning, but I was unfortunate. I was told you w’^ere 
not at home. ” 

“ That, unhappily, is what you will always be told 
when you call, ” answered the elder woman, in a dry, 
hard voice, as she looked meanwhile nervously at 
Nanny through a pair of gold-rimmed eye-glasses. 

“Will you tell me why.?” asked Nanny, with a 
sob in her voice. 

“ I thought I had explained my reason yesterday. 
Knowing as I do that Captain Ryder’s wife. Lady 
Ellen, is alive, it is not possible for me to receive her 
supplanter. ” 

“ How do you know that Lady Ellen is alive? ” 

“ By the best of all proofs. I saw her last night.” 

“ Where ?” 

“ Here. She crossed the road quickly, and went 
into The Grange garden by this side-gate.” 

‘ ‘ Did you speak to her ? Are you sure it was she ? ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


HO 

“ I did not speak to her, but I am sure it was she. 
I imagine she was coming from The White House at 
Bicton, where I have seen her twice before during the 
last few years.” 

‘ ‘ The White House Is she insane Is she locked 
up there ? ” 

“ I don’t know whether she is insane, but I cannot 
suppose she is locked up, for on each occasion I have 
seen her going in or out. But allow me to 'remind 
you that, sane or insane, she is Captain Ryder’s wife 
all the same.” 

“ But I want to see her — I want to see her,” said 
Nanny, stamping her foot impatiently. “ How can 
I believe in this will-o’-the-wisp woman, whom every- 
body seems to see except me .? ” 

Mrs. Calverley laughed softly, and, raising her eye- 
glass, began to scan Nanny’s face curiously, and not 
unkindly, in the light of the gas-lamp. 

“ Look here, little girl,” she said at last, “ you’ve 
been very badly treated ; I must allow that. You 
have married a bad man, and you may tell him I 
said so. Take my advice ; now, while he is lying 
ill, and can’t come after you, go away back to your 
friends. You will be quite safe from him, for, when 
he once suspects that you know who he is, he won’t 
dare to follow you. And don’t attempt to come face 
to face with Lady Ellen. Although she hates her 
husband, she is not at all likely to love you. And 
to tell you the truth, child,” went on Mrs. Calverley, 
with a sudden impulse of expansion, ‘ ‘ I shan’t be 
able to rest till you are gone. For, knowing what a 
pair of demons Dan and his wife are, I can do noth- 
ing but haunt this place, waiting for another tragedy, 
ever since I heard that he had had the assurance to 
come back.” 

“ Another tragedy ! ” echoed Nanny in a horror- 
struck whisper. 

But Mrs. Calverley, already afraid that her confi- 
dence had gone too far. merely wished her “ Good- 
night” with her former frigidity, and hurried abruptly 
away in the direction of her own home. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


141 


CHAPTER XI. 

Nanny’s first impulse, when Mrs. Calverley left her 
thus abruptly, was to run after that lady, and insist 
on hearing more details of the mystery of the Ryders. 
But she had scarcely taken two steps in pursuit when 
she stopped short, and straightway abandoned this 
intention. 

After all, what was the use of it.? The Admiral’s 
wife, with her hard voice, her short-sighted, inquisi- 
tive stoop, and nervous manner, was not an attrac- 
tive or sympathetic personality, and such details as 
might be gathered from her lips would come with a 
cold dryness which Nanny, sensitive from recent 
wounds, shrank from encountering. 

The young wife said to herself that she knew the 
worst Mrs. Calverley had to tell — that Dan had been 
married before, and that his first wife. Lady Ellen, 
was alive. This was dreadful enough, certainly ; but 
as Nanny naturally refused to believe Mrs. Calverley’s 
further assurances that Captain Ryder was a bad man, 
and the central figure in a “tragedy,” she persisted 
in saying to herself that there was an explanation which 
would set matters right ; and this explanation, un- 
pleasant as it would be to ask for it, Nanny now felt 
that she must have as soon as her husband was well 
enough to give it. 

In the meantime the poor child felt that life in this 
mystery-haunted house was difficult. 

If she could only confide in someone ! Nanny 
wanted to pour her story into the sympathetic ears of 
kind Mrs. Bambridge, but she was restrained by a 
fear lest this might include Mr. Bambridge, and in 
time the boys and girls. As for Meg, loving, devoted 
sister Meg, who was sure, in spite of all her efforts. 


RALPH RYDER 01^' BRENT, 


to find out from the tone of her letters that something 
was wrong, the hot tears came fast down Nanny's 
cheeks at the thought of her. Confidence in old Meg 
was at this stage of affairs not to be thought of. For 
Nanny knew perfectly well what the result would be. 
Up Meg would come from Edinburgh by the next 
available train, in a tornado of passion. Profiting 
by Captain Ryder’s illness, she would next administer 
a fiery-tongued reproof to old Mrs. Ryder, as the 
only representative of the family whom she could get 
at ; and then, regardless of the inevitable scandal, 
she would insist on carrying Nanny back to Edin- 
burgh without waiting to hear Captain Ryder’s version 
of the story, or what he had to say in his own defence. 

So Nanny resolved, until her husband was well, to 
keep her own counsel. 

She got back to the house just as the doctor was 
leaving it. He was holding a conversation with old 
Mrs. Ryder at the door, and Nanny was annoyed to 
see on what very confidential terms they seemed to 
be. She could see them, under cover of the darkness, 
as they stood in the lamp-light at the open hall-door 
long before she reached it. Their voices were very 
low, and by their gestures it seemed that the lady 
was giving the doctor a long account, to which he 
listened assentingly. 

“Yes, don’t trouble yourself about him. He is 
going on very well. Good-night,” said he, as soon 
as Nanny came near enough to announce her presence 
with very firm steps upon the gravel. 

The younger lady passed him with only a cold sal- 
utation, for, with perhaps excusable prejudice, she 
looked upon every friend of her mother-in-law as her 
enemy. 

‘ ‘ Dear me ! where have you been, my dear .? ” 
cooed out the old lady softly, not without some 
apprehension in her voice. “You shouldn’t be out 
so late without something round your shoulders. 
You ” 

“I am all right, thank you,” said Nanny coldly. 


J^ ALPH I^YDEI^ OF BRENT. 


143 

But the gentle old lady was not the sort of person 
you could avoid against her own wish. She followed 
Nanny upstairs, and asked permission to come into 
her room for a moment. The younger lady with a 
wry face, had to comply. 

“ I have been thinking about you, my poor child, 
all the afternoon,” she bleated out with a little sigh. 

“It is very kind of you.” 

“Now, don’t be sarcastic with a poor old woman. 
It is not like you. You will make life too hard, my 
child, if you shut up your heart against everybody 
who loves you and wishes you well. Can’t you 
learn to confide your troubles to me, dear } You 
have no mother, and I would be a mother to you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Oh, you are hard! You forget your husband, 
whom you have taken away from me, remember ; 
for I can’t help seeing that you have got my share of 
his heart as well as your own. ” 

Nanny’s mouth softened, and a moment’s irres- 
olution came into her pretty eyes. The other instantly 
took advantage of it. 

‘ ‘ What does Dan care for his mother now .? 
Nothing. Through you, yes, through you, I am now 
all alone in the world.” 

“ Oh, don’t say that. I ” 

“But I know it, and I don’t complain. I know 
very well that it is only right, and in the natural order 
of things, that the wife should come first. It is only 
when I see my poor boy in danger of being de'serted 
by the wife he adores that my heart grows sore for 
him. If I were only sure — you — you would not 
leave him ” 

The old lady, whose voice was really breaking, 
sank on to a chair and put a very delicate scrap of 
lace-edged cambric to her eyes. Her emotion was 
real ; the hardest thing you could say about it was 
that it came easily, and showed itself more easily 
still. 

Nanny did not fall on her knees and caress her 


144 


RALPH RYDER OF BREN7\ 


mother-in-law with the impulsive warmth she would 
have felt ten days before ; she moved one step 
nearer to her, and said curiously : 

“Leave him ! I am his wife, am I not? Why 
should I leave him ? ” 

The old lady was fora moment rather disconcerted. 
Then she said half pettishly : 

“Well, my dear, you have been so busy lately 
ferreting out old stories, that I thought perhaps you 
were anxious for an excuse for leaving him.” 

“Ferreting — out — old — stories!” repeated Nanny 
slowly, while an indignant flush rose in her cheeks. 
“I think, considering what I have learned fr(un 
one person and another, I might be excused if I di I 
want to do a little ‘ferreting,' as you call it. ILit i 
don’t intend to try. I am going to wait until Dan 
is well, and then tell him everything that I have 
heard, and ask him to explain it all. 1 can trust my 
husband. ” 

This was a brave speech, as the resolution of 
which it was the fruit had been hard to make. But 
old Mrs. Ryder did not seem to see the trust and self- 
sacrifice it implied. She remained sitting with her 
tiny pocket-handkerchief in her hands, while an ex- 
pression of annoyance and perplexity came over her 
features. 

“ And when he gets well — you will tell him — what 
will you tell him ? Why not leave these old stories 
alone ? ” 

“I can’t — I can’t,” broke out Nanny passionately, 
out of patience with the old lady’s demands. “ I 
shouldn’t be human if I could be satisfied with know- 
ing just what I do and no more. Why I don’t even 
know whether ” 

“Sh 1 sh I ” hissed old Mrs. Ryder, glancing around 
her nervously. “There are servants in the house 
now, remember, new servants, all eyes and ears. 
Now, listen,” and she dropped her voice till it was 
scarcely louder than a whisper : “ I have something 
to tell you — about Dan. ” She paused, and drew her 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


145 

handkerchief across her lips, which were dry and 
parched through her excitement. “ He will be about 
again before long, we hope. But,” and she raised 
her eyes in pleading terror to her daughter-in-law’s 
face, “ it will be months before he is quite himself. 
The doctor thinks this illness — will affect his mind — 
his memory — and that unless he is kept very quiet 
and free from all excitement — he may never wholly 
recover, but remain in a half-childish state — for the 
rest — of his life ! ” 

Nanny, white even to her lips, received this an- 
nouncement in dead silence. Then came a moment 
of doubt. She looked nervously at her mother-in-law. 

‘ ‘ The doctor told you this, you say ? ” 

‘ ‘ When he had heard what I had to tell him about 
his life in India — yes.” 

Nanny drew a long breath. 

“ I see. Thank you. Don’t tell me any more ! ” 

The poor child put her hands to her ears. She 
felt she could not bear another word. Her mother- 
in-law had the sense to recognise this : and quietly, 
in a shamed-faced sort of way, as if remorseful for 
having had to deal such blows, she went away. 

There was happily, as in most women who are 
good for anything, a strong practical side to Nanny’s 
nature. Having once said to herself that she would 
do nothing and say nothing in the matter of the 
family secret until her husband was well enough to 
be consulted, she devoted herself to nursing him, 
taking her share of waiting and watching with her 
mother-in-law and the nurse, and found by so doing 
a time-worn relief from her troubles. In the inter- 
vals of nursing she made a systematic inspection of 
the house from garret to cellar, animated partly by 
girlish delight at having a home of her own, and 
partly by the nascent housewifely instinct, which 
told her that something more ought to be done to it 
to bring it up to date. 

Two days after that final scene with her mother-in- 
law, since which Nanny had resolutely declined to 

lO 


146 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

re-open the old subject with her, the young mistress 
of The Grange was sitting on the wide, shallow stairs, 
which led from the first to the second or attic story, 
surveying with a meditative and distasteful air a vast 
expanse of wall on her left covered with paper of 
that singular pattern known to our immediate ances- 
tors as “ marbled/’ 

“ Why ‘ marbled ’ ? ” asked Nanny with a shake of 
the head, addressing Laura Bambridge, who was 
laboriously winding up a piece of string with which 
the two ladies had been measuring the exact length 
of the gallery for an “art ” wall-paper. 

For the lads and lasses at Brent Lodge were still 
Nanny’s chief consolation, and each day she found 
some excuse for having at least one of them to share 
her loneliness. 

“ For that matter, why ‘ art retorted Laura. 
“It doesn’t really want more imagination to see a 
likeness to blocks of marble in those prosaic blue 
zigzags on a butter-coloured ground than to see the 
connection between art and a pattern of pink cauli- 
flower. Our papas and mammas read Byron and 
Tom Moore, and liked to fancy themselves living in 
marble palaces. We go to South Kensington and 
imagine ourselves ‘ arstistic. ’ And all the time we are 
just the same stodgy old Britons underneath it all.” 

“You are severe and misanthropical this morning,” 
said Nanny, laughing. 

‘ ‘ 1 am consumed by a sense of the vanity of all 
things, just because I can’t get my own particular 
‘ wanity,’ as Mr. Weller says,” admitted Laura. 
“We can’t get papa to see that, in order to carry out 
the great principle of ‘the survival of the fittest,’ 
our sealskin jackets absolutely must be ‘done up’ 
for this winter. He says this ‘doing up,’ costs so 
much ; that we had better throw the sealskins aside 
and make our old cloth coats do instead. Now, 
what is the use of training us up to appreciate 
scientific theories if we are not allowed to put them 
in practice ?” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


i47 


‘ ‘ It's very hard, " said Nanny. ‘ ‘ If I had known you 
to be smarting under the sense of such an injustice, 
I would not have asked you to come and share my 
woes about wall-paper." 

“Never mind," said Laura, with an exaggerated 
sigh. “In the contemplation of your sorrows I can 
forget my own." 

And she skipped along the gallery towards 
Nanny so quickly that she tripped in a hole in the 
worn carpet, and was thrown headforemost against 
the wall at the end. To the surprise of both, the 
wall yielded a little, and the despised marble paper 
cracked. 

“What have I done.?" cried poor Laura. “I 
thought this was the outer wall. Surely my head 
isn't hard enough to. make a passage through into 
the garden." 

They both began to laugh with the immoderate 
merriment one can enjoy at twenty, even with a 
mysterious secret hanging over one's head. And 
both began to tap on the wall and to examine it. 

“ I thought it was the outer wall, too," said Nanny, 
as they discovered beyond a doubt, by the sound 
their knuckles made on the wall, that there was a 
hollow space behind it. “But now, of course, I 
remember that there is an attic above this corner, 
and — yes, the study is right underneath. Then there 
must be a room or a space behind here : the question 
is, how to get at it. 'There is certainly no door from 
the inside, unless, indeed — " and she began to feel 
more carefully — “ there has been one here and it has 
been blocked up." 

She tore a small piece of the paper off, enough to 
show that behind there was a wall of lath and plaster. 
They had just discovered this when they caught sight 
of old Mrs. Ryder at the other end of the gallery. 
She had just come upstairs. 

‘ ‘ The old lady looks scared ; she thinks we're pull- 
ing the house down," whispered Laura, under cover 
of stooping to pick up her handkerchief. 


148 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 

She did look scared. Nanny ran to meet her, afraid 
that something had gone wrong. 

“What’s the matter, mamma } has anything hap- 
pened ? ” 

“No, dear, no. I don’t grow any younger, and 
the stairs try me. That’s all. What are you girls 
doing up here } ” she continued, as she shook hands 
with Laura. 

“ I want to have a new paper on the wall here, as 
soon as Dan gets well,” said Nanny. “This is so 
dreadfully ugly and common-looking, isn’t it .? ” 

‘ ‘ That is what you young people think of everything 
chosen by your elders, I suppose,” answered the old 
lady, with as near an approach to tartness as her 
general amiability permitted. 

There was a pause. The young ladies both felt 
snubbed. As a diversion, Laura again tapped on 
the hollow-sounding wall. 

“ There seems to be a bit of wasted space here that 
we can’t account for,” she said lightly. 

“Yes, mamma, is there a room there, do you 
know } And if so, where is the door } ” 

“There is no room,” answered the old lady quietly. 
“This is the east end of the house, and it was a 
fancy of my poor husband’s that by having a double 
wall we should be protected against the east winds. 
That is all.” 

“ What a strange idea ! And what a pity to give 
so much space up to it ! ” exclaimed Laura. 

“It is not much — not more than a couple of feet.” 
A shadow passed upon the old lady’s face. Evident- 
ly she did not care for her late husband’s whims to be 
laughed at. She hastened to change the conversation, 
and assuming a more conciliatory tone towards the 
views of the young people, she continued : “Perhaps 
this paper is rather ugly ; though, having been used 
to it years ago, I did not look at it with your aesthet- 
ically cultivated eyes.” 

“Then you won’t be offended if I have it repa- 
pered, mamma ? ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


149 

“Of course not, my dear. This is your home now, 
not mine ; you can do whatever you like in it. But if 
you will take my advice, instead of repapering the 
wall, you will hang it with curtains all the way up 
the stairs. That will be more modern still.'’ 

“Oh, that would be lovely ! But wouldn’t it be 
frightfully expensive } ” 

“Not if you have printed cotton curtains,! think. 
I am going up to town this afternoon, you know. 
Shall I call at Liberty’s, and see what they would 
come to ? ” 

“Oh, if you would, mamma ! What is the length, 
Laura ? ” 

‘ ‘ Here is the string, with a knot in it at each end 
of the exact length. It is not exactly what you would 
call scientific measurement, I’m afraid ; but we 
couldn’t find a yard measure.” 

“ The worst of it is, ’’remarked Nanny, with a touch 
of gloom, “that if the curains do prove too expensive, 
we shall have missed an afternoon’s enjoyment. 
Laura’s brother Arthur has a half-holiday to-day, and 
we were going to buy some paper in the village, and 
make him turn paper-hanger. ” 

“It would have been such fun,” added Laura wist- 
fully. 

“But amateur paper-hanging would never answer. 
It is very difficult indeed to do properly, ” said old 
Mrs. Ryder quickly. “ Look, Nanny. If you will 
promise to leave the wall alone till I come back I will 
bring you the curtains, whatever they cost. If they 
cost more than you think Dan would approve of your 
spending. I’ll pay half of the money myself.” 

“ Oh, how good of you ! But I don’t like to ” 

“Yes, yes, I should like to, get them. I want to 
see the old house look nice. Only — don’t meddle 
with the wall till I come back.” 

“ No. We promise,” said Nanny. 

“ Will you come downstaii*s with me now, and see 
me to the station ? And 1 suppose, Nanny, you mean 
to spend the rest of the time in Dan’s room ? ” 


150 


RALPH RYDER OF B RENE 


The younger ladies followed her downstairs, and 
after luncheon, which was just served, they accom- 
panied her to the station. 

As soon as the train had started, however, sharp- 
eyed Laura pursed her mouth up knowingly, and 
said : 

“ Now, I wonder if that dear old lady imagines that 
we don't see through her little artifice ! She wouldn’t 
have been so fond of our society if she had not wanted 
to keep us out of mischief, and she hoped that by the 
time she had started we should have forgotten all 
about that wall.” 

“Yes. She didn’t want us to paper it, did she.? ” 
said Nanny doubtfully. “ I wonder why ! ” 

‘ ‘ / know. She wanted us to leave that wall alone 
because there is a room behind it, which she doesn’t 
want us to see into. And of course, as long as human 
nature remains what it is, that is the very way to 
make us want to see.” 

Nanny stopped short, and stared at the girl as if she 
had received a great shock. 

“Oh!” she gasped. “You don’t think that, do 
you .? ” 

‘ ‘ Don’t take it so tragically, ” cried Laura, laugh- 
ing. “ There’s a room that somebody or other would 
like to block up in every old house, you may be sure 
of that. And Mrs. Ryder, being a woman of strong 
will, has had her own way about it. Most likely it is 
the room in which her husband died,” she added in a 
graver tone. 

“ Very likely,” assented Nanny with surprising 
eagerness. For Laura could not know what a load 
of irritating mystery the young wife had had to bear 
already. ‘ ‘ I never thought of that. I wonder if there 
is a room there .? ” she added after a pause. 

“It is very easy to find out, ” cried Laura, with 
girlish eagerness for the undertaking. ‘ ‘ The old plan 
— you know. Put a handkerchief, or a book, or a 
flower, anything, in every window, and then see from 
the outside whether there’s a window left out. ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


151 

“Ye — es, we might do that,” said Nanny hesitat- 
ingly. 

‘ ‘ Do, do let us do it. It will be such fun ! It is 
your own house, you know, though I dare say that 
old lady doesn’t mean it to be so any more than she 
can help. At any rate, there can be no harm in find- 
ing out about the windows — can there ? ” 

“ No — o, I suppose not.” 

So it was settled that a book, being a heavy thing 
which the breeze could not blow away, should be 
placed in every window ; and when they reached 
The Grange, Laura forced the still half-reluctant 
Nanny to carry out the plan. Before they had half 
finished their task, Arthur Bambridge, who had been 
invited by Nanny the day before, arrived and entered 
with great zest into the occupation on hand. That is 
to say, he stood in the garden and directed them from 
point to point in a hoarse whisper, which was sup- 
posed to be less irritating to the nerves of a conva- 
lescent man than speech uttered in a natural voice. 
Nanny, however, had ascertained that her husband 
was asleep before joining in this dubious frolic. 

At last the task was done ; and the two ladies stood 
together at the window in front of which old Mrs. 
Ryder had found them that morning. Nanny was 
shaking like a leaf as they put their heads out, and 
saw Arthur standing on the grass below trying to 
prop a ladder against the wall. His face was flushed 
with boyish excitement, although he affected a man- 
ner which was a cross between that of the bored man- 
about-town and that of the scientific investigator. 

“What are you doing .?*” sobbed out Nanny in a 
frightened voice. 

Laura turned round quickly to look at her. The 
young wife's hands hung down at her sides ; her face 
was wet and cold. 

“Oh, you are ill! You have have got too much 
excited about this nonsense,” cried Laura. 

Nanny shook her head. 

“Stop him,” she whispered. 


152 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


Laura put her head out of the window, and franti- 
cally made signs to her brother, who had already as- 
cended two or three rungs of the ladder, to go down 
again. Recovering herself, Nanny too looked out 
and smiled faintly at the astonished lad. 

“ Wait till I come down," she said, after clearing 
her throat with difficulty ; “I want to go up first" 

She knew that she was very foolish to be so much 
moved without cause, and by the time she and her 
companion got ^^own into the garden she had recov- 
ered herself sufficiently to laugh almost naturally at 
her own fright. 

Still, the sight of two empty windows at the end of 
the house, with the thinning trails of Virginia creeper 
swinging gently in front of them, filled her again with 
alarm which she could not have explained away to 
her companions without letting them into the secret 
of the shock she had already suffered in that house. 
Arthur was looking very cross ; he was not old 
enough to be very chivalrous, and he put down her 
desire to go first to “feminine nastiness,” and to 
jealousy of his masculine superiority. 

“ All right, " he said rather haughtily; “of course 
you can go first if you like, Mrs. Ryder ; but don’t 
blame me if there’s a stray rat, or cat, or bat in the 
room that flies out at you and gives you a fright. I 
can’t catch you if you fall down, you know ; for I 
shall be holding the ladder. ’’ 

^ “You are not very courteous, Arthur,’’ said his 
sister reprovingly. 

“ Never mind. I shall be all right,’’ said Nanny. 

And seeing there was no help for it, and being her- 
self on fire with curiosity, she at once began the as- 
cent of the ladder in spite of the expostulations of 
Laura, who was afraid that she might faint. 

“ Here’s something to pull back the catch of the 
window with, Mrs. Ryder,’’ said Arthur, handing her 
his pocket-knife. 

Nanny got up the ladder nimbly and neatly enough, 
having been “ a bit of a tomboy,’’ as her nurse used 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


153 

to say, and not disdainful of the art of tree-climbing. 
She opened the pocket-knife, drew back the window- 
catch, and with some difficulty raised the sash. Then 
she turned round to look down, with a white, excited 
face. 

“It is a room,” she whispered. “ I’m going to 
get in.” 

Laura began to remonstrate, frightened by her 
paleness. But Arthur “ shut his sister up ” with a 
remark of curt brotherliness, delivered in an under- 
tone. When they looked up again, Nanny had 
disappeared inside the room. There were a few 
moments for the two people below of breathless, 
delicious excitement. Then young Mrs. Ryder 
reappeared at the window. 

Nay, was it young Mrs. Ryder ? A creature with 
haggard ghastly face, staring eyes, and shaking white 
lips, who made signs to the two below, but without 
speaking. 

“Go up to her, or let me go up to her, Arthur ! 
She must not come down this way alone, at any 
rate,” whispered Laura, much shocked. 

But Nanny had caught the words, and before either 
could mount one step, she was out on the ladder, 
shutting the window with a sudden accession of 
nervous force. 

“ Don’t come ! don’t come ! ” she cried in a firm 
voice. “ I will come down.” 


154 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


CHAPTER XL 

It was quite clear to both Laura and Arthur Barn- 
bridge that something she had seen in the long-con- 
cealed room had given young Mrs. Ryder a terrible 
shock. She came down the ladder firmly, but very 
slowly, and quick-witted Laura wondered whether 
she had seen something she did not wish to speak 
about, and was trying to invent some story to ac- 
count for the fright she had evidently received 

This, in truth, was the case. Nanny, sick at 
heart and terror-struck, knew she must not confess 
what had frightened her and yet shrank from telling 
an absolute falsehood. Arthur, who was entirely 
lacking in his sisters delicate perception, helped her 
out of her difficulty by his first question. 

‘‘ Well, Mrs. Ryder, you were boasting the other 
day that you didn’t believe in ghosts, that you were 
never frightened unless there was real reason for 
fear, and ” 

“There was real reason for fear,” said Nanny, 
plucking up spirit to answer him. “You might have 
run away with the ladder.” 

“ It wasn’t that fear that made you look so fright- 
ened. You’ve only just thought of that. Now, what 
was it really ? ” 

“A cat, or a rat, or a bat, Mr. Inquisitive.” 

“Now, Mrs. Ryder, you’re only putting me off. 
I shall go up and see for myself.” 

Nanny's face changed, and she laid her hand on 
his arm to restrain him ; while his sister, with less 
ceremony, pulled the ladder away from the wall, 
and so shook him off. 

“ Why mayn’t I go up? Why mayn’t I go up?” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


155 


asked he eagerly, like a spoilt child. “If there are 
really rats there, let me get Harrison’s terrier — Har- 

ison, the blacksmith, has a first-rate ratter, and ” 

‘ ‘ Really, Arthur, you don’t suppose Mrs. Ryder 
wants all the village ringing with the exciting story 
of a rat-hunt at The Grange ! ” 

Arthur was about to answer in a lofty tone of 
offended dignity, for he considered himself to stand 
on a more elevated plane of refinement than Laura 
did. But Nanny broke in with a very gentle voice : 

“A terrier would be of no use, Arthur, because I 
don’t even know that there are any rats. That room 
is only a lumber-room.” 

‘ ‘ But something frightened you ! Lumber wouldn’t 
frighten you — old boxes and things like that. ” 

“Lumber did frighten me, you see. Now, don’t 
go about telling everybody that I went into hysterics 
at the sight of a few boxes piled on one another, or 
they will say that Mrs. Ryder has a bad conscience, 
and that there is something wrong at The Grange. ” 
But she could not quite keep up the light tone she 
had assumed. Her face quivered on the last words. 
Then she caught Laura’s eye, and saw that the girl’s 
face was full of kindness and sympathy, whereupon 
she had to turn away abruptly to hide her tears. 

“ Let us go in,” she said ; “ it is getting cold.” 

But it was not cold ; although it was late October, 
the sun was bright and warm. Laura frowned and 
nodded energetically at her brother to signify to that 
obtuse youth that he was to second her in what she 
was going to §ay ; and then she told Nanny that they 
had to be home early, and marched Arthur off before 
that young gentleman had made up his mind in what 
manner to show his displeasure at the liberties which 
were being taken with him. 

They left Nanny on the lawn, under the cedar-trees, 
and there she remained, quite benumbed and helpless 
under the fresh blow which had fallen upon her, 
with eyes which had lost their capacity for seeing any- 
thing but those long shut-up windows and the secret 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


156 

behind them. And yet what had she seen Noth- 
ing but a pile of lumber, as she had truly told her 
light-hearted companions of a few minutes before. 
But then it was lumber which told a tale, and a 
ghastly tale. Nanny saw the apartment now as 
plainly as she had done ten minutes ago ; smelt 
again the mouldy, close smell of a chamber long 
shut up from the outer air. 

It had been a bedroom, and in use at the time when 
it was suddenly closed. A large washhand-stand 
stood in one corner, with a piece of dried-up soap in 
the uncovered soap-dish, and traces of water in the 
displaced jug and in the washhand-basin. Every- 
thing else in the room was in confusion — not the 
confusion of accident or of neglect, but the evident 
result of a mad access of passion. Pictures had been 
torn from the walls, and lay, the frames shattered, 
the glass almost powdered, on the ground. A chest 
of drawers had been overthrown, and the contents, 
deep in the dust of many years, lay in a heap, with 
a broken looking-glass on the top of all. The window- 
curtains had been torn down, the mantelpiece orna- 
ments swept off. But all this formed only the blurred 
background to a picture which Nanny felt that nothing 
would ever obliterate from her mind. The bed, one 
of the old-fashioned mahogany erections of which 
there were many more in the house, had been dragged 
into the middle of the room, and was the most 
conspicuous object in it. The bed-clothes had dis- 
appeared, or lay lost among the disordered heaps of 
clothing on the floor. But the paillasse remained, 
presenting a spectacle so horrible that Nanny grew 
cold at the recollection, for it was dyed with a stain 
which spread down the side of the bedstead and over 
a wide space of the carpet, and discoloured by time 
and the accumulation of dust as it was, Nanny knew 
that it showed where there had once been a pool of 
blood. 

This awful discovery had shocked her so much 
that the thought of penetrating into a second and 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


157 


larger room beyond, the door of which was kept open 
by a fallen chair, had not even occurred to her. Her 
one idea had been to escape from the sight, and to 
hide it from the others. Now left to herself, however, 
she half wished she had gone further in her researches. 
What could she have learnt, indeed, to lessen the 
horror of what she knew } Might not even uncer- 
tainty be better than certainty? For conjecturing 
busily in spite of herself, there came a horrible 
suspicion into the poor young wife’s mind. A crime 
had been committed in the shut-up room. Was it 
murder? With new meaning, a half-forgotten sen- 
tence in the letter Meg had written to her on first 
hearing of her engagement to Dan, came back to 
her mind, about a certain Ralph Ryder of Brent of 
evil reputation. And then Mrs. Calverley had talked 
of a tragedy. 

But how to reconcile this with what she knew of 
Dan, the kindest and most devoted of husbands, the 
gentlest and most chivalrous of men ? Could even 
madness change a man so much ? 

She started guiltily on hearing the trail of a woman’s 
skirt over the grass. It was the nurse, who came up 
to her with a smiling face. 

“You look as if you wanted some good news, 
ma’am, and I’ve brought it,” she said. “The Cap- 
tain’s woke up quite sensible, and much better, and 
he says would you please come and see him. I had 
half a mind to tell him you were out, because he 
wants to talk, and he didn’t ought to excite himself 
yet. But he seemed so wistful, I hadn’t the heart. 
You’ll be careful, and not let him talk too much, will 
you, ma’am ? ” 

Nanny promised, and returned to the house with 
the nurse very slowly. Mrs. Walters, who had been 
shrewd enough to discover that there was a skeleton 
in The Grange cupboard, and who, of course, took 
the part of the submissive young lady against the 
strong-willed one, ventured on another remark. 

“ I’m glad old Mrs. Ryder isn’t here just now, when 


j 58 RALPH R YDER OF BRENT, 

the poor gentleman is able to talk sensible for the 
first time/' she said, with a sidelong look. 

“ Yes, I would rather have his first words myself," 
assented Nanny discreetly. 

“ I shouldn’t wish to say anything disrespectful of 
her," went on the. nurse, “but I don’t hold with 
worrying people when they’re ill, and I’m sure the 
way that old lady used to hang over his bed, listen- 
ing to his words when he was not himself, must have 
worried Captain Ryder, even though he didn’t, not to 
say know what was going on." 

“Yes, yes. I’ve thought so too," said the young 
wife. “And there was nothing to listen to. There 
was nothing important in what he said. " 

There was a half-questioning inflection in her voice. 
Mrs. Walters answered promptly. 

“ Nothing whatever. It was mostly all about you, 
ma'am. Only once ’’ 

“Well.?" 

The nurse hesitated, and then went on with her 
speech, believing, good soul ! that she was giving the 
pretty young lady a useful warning. This seeiped 
the more probable that Nanny’s face was full of ex- 
citement and interest immediately. 

“Once he did say something about a letter." 
Nanny stopped short, but then, recovering herself, 
went on, tottering in her walk. She made a sign to 
the nurse to go on. “Some wicked letter that some- 
body must have written to him about you, ma’am, I 
think, for he seemed afraid that they would take you 
away from him. He seemed in a dreadful state 
about it, and old Mrs. Ryder didn’t seem to like it. 

I dare say she is a little jealous of his being so fond 
of you. Mothers mostly are of their sons’ wives : 
don’t you think so, ma’am ? " 

“Yes, I suppose so," answered Nanny mechan- 
ically. 

She entered the sick-room like a mouse. The 
curtains of one window had been drawn back, and 
the light fell through the white blind on Captain 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


m 

Ryder’s pale face. He looked so different without 
the sunburn, so old and worn and gray, that the dis- 
crepancy between the age he owned to and the age 
he looked struck Nanny with overwhelming force. 
And if he had deceived her in that one particular, why 
not in others .? 

In the very moment that this thought occurred to 
her she was seized with remorse. For the look on 
her husband s face as he held out his arms touched 
her to the quick. 

“ Nanny, my darling ! ” he said in a weak voice. 

And the next moment he was holding her head 
between his trembling hands, devouring her little 
flower-face with eyes luminous with tenderness. 

“Oh, Nanny, I can’t talk to you, child. I — I shall 
make a fool of myself if 1 do. It is horrible to be ill, 
Nanny, and to feel that you are a long way away 
from — from the creature you want — that you are 
always going farther — farther^ — that something — 
somebody is drawing you away. I want you to 
stay by me, little one. Don’t let me feel it again. 
Don’t tremble, child ; don’t look frightened. Some- 
body — my mother, I think it was — always seemed to 
be coming betw^n you and me, whispering to me, 
and — what was n I wanted to say } I — I can’t re- 
member.” 

His head, which he had raised from the pillow, fell 
back upon her shoulder. The exertion had made his 
face moist, and caused his breath to come quickly. 
Nanny was moved to tears ; she was frightened also, 
both by his physical condition and by his last words. 
What was it he wanted to remember ? 

For a few happy moments, with his head in her 
arms, he forgot the thought which had been worrying 
him. But suddenly he looked up again. 

“Nanny,” he said, in a husky, weak voice, scan- 
ning her face with wistful eyes, ‘ ‘ what was it .? 
Can’t you help me to remember what it was .? My 
head seems confused still— and — and ” 

“Don’t try to remember,” whispered Nanny, 


1 6o RALPH R YDER OF BRENT, 

alarmed both by what he half remembered and by 
what he wholly forgot. “Don't think of anything 
until you are stronger except me. '' 

With a sigh which seemed to shake his weak frame, 
he looked up in her face, and passed his trembling 
hand over the hair which fell in little silky rings over 
her forehead. 

“Not think of anything except you.? Oh, Nanny, 
you need not tell me that ! 'Whether the dreams I 
had were pleasant or unpleasant, they were always 
of you — you — nothing but you.” 

“You mustn’t have unpleasant dreams about me,” 
said Nanny, smiling. 

“No, dear, no. I need not dream about you at all 
now that I can have you beside me. But ” 

He paused, and his wife saw, by the look which 
came over his face, that his thoughts were going back 
again to the subject which had been worrying him. 
He frowned painfully, as if trying to recollect lost 
impressions, and at last, in spite of her entreaties that 
he would not trouble himself about anything until he 
was quite well, he seized her left hand, and, clasping 
it tightly in his, said : 

“Tell me, Nanny, have you seen anything about 
the house — to trouble you, or — or perplex you, while 
I have been lying here ? Have you seen — or fancied 
you have seen — any person who, according to all 
reason, could not have been there Answer me, 
Nanny — answer me ! ” 

But for a few moments she could not. Her lips 
were parched, her tongue seemed powerless, while 
her head swam with wild conjectures. At last, how- 
ever, she seemed to understand. He had believed 
Lady Ellen to be dead, and he had seen her alive. 
Nanny’s breath came fast. She threw a rapid glance 
at her husband’s face, saw how excited he was, and, 
remembering the nurse’s warping, resolved at all 
hazards to keep her fears and her fancies from him for 
the present. Fortunately, too, she could say with 
truth she had not seen anyone. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. l6i 

“Answer me, dear,” repeated Captain Ryder. 

“No, Dan, I have not seen anybody,” she said 
simply at last. “ But if I had, I shouldn’t let you talk 
about it now, dear.” 

He smiled at her and pressed her hand to his lips. 
He believed her, but yet he did not seem satisfied. 

“ I think, Dan,” she suggested gently, “ that you 
had ugly fancies when you were ill — a sort of night- 
mare, in fact. But now you’re getting well, and you 
won’t have them any more.” 

For a moment he was silent, looking at her fixedly. 
At last he spoke in a hesitating, uncertain manner. 

“ I suppose you are right ; I had fancies because 
I was ill. And yet ” — again his eyebrows contracted 
and the look of perplexity came back into his eyes — 
“I felt so sure that it was before my accident I 
saw ” 

Nanny watched his lips eagerly, wondering whether 
he was going to confess. But, after a pause, he only 
added, in a dreamy tone : “what I saw.” 

There was silence for a few minutes. Captain 
Ryder seemed to be struggling with his dim recollec- 
tions ; Nanny was afraid to speak : afraid, on the one 
hand, to allow him to excite himself by this talk — 
anxious, on the other hand, for him to utter just the 
few words which would make his whole meaning 
clear. A bell rang somewhere, and husband and 
wife looked at each other in a startled manner. 

“ My mother, 1 suppose,” remarked Captain Ryder, 
in a tone of some annoyance. 

At the name Nanny, as if caught in some guilty 
act, tried to withdraw herself from her husband’s 
arms ; but he instantly fell into a paroxysm of excite- 
ment, and detaining her with all the force he could 
use, lie stammered out ; 

“No, no, no ! That is just what I knew, what I 
felt, what I feared ! She is standing between you 
and me, Nanny ; she has some secret which she is 
holding over our heads. Sometimes I feel that I 
hate her ” 


II 


i 62 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT 


“Oh, hush ! don’t say such things, Dan, ’ cried 
Nanny, terribly alarmed by the wildness of his words, 
and by the glow which excitement was bringing into 
his cheeks and into his eyes ; for it seemed to the 
poor child that the passion she was stirring made the 
crime which she suspected seem more probable. She 
had never seen him so angry before, and her fears 
made the sight of his frowning face a torture to her. 

“I don’t think it is mamma, Dan," she said at last, 
in a timid voice. “ She would have been in here by 
this time. Let me go and see who it is.” 

She drew herself away, and had reached the door, 
when she was startled by Dan’s voice. 

“ I know ! ” he cried, in tones much stronger than 
before. “Someone was with me — a young fellow ; 
yes, Bambridge ! Send for young Bambridge, Nanny ; 
he saw what I did. ” 

“Very well, dear, I will,” said his wife, as she left 
the room. 

One of the maids met her in the hall. 

‘ ‘ A gentleman is in the drawing-room who wishes 
to see you, maam,” said the girl. 

“One of the young Mr. Bambridges ” asked 
Nanny. 

“No, ma’am. Mr. Eley, he said his name was.” 

Valentine Eley ! Nanny made her way to the 
drawing-room slowly, not at all anxious to see this 
gentleman who held the Ryder secret, whatever it 
was, as a marketable commodity. 

The big drawing-rooms were almost dark when 
Nanny reached them. The household not being yet 
in full working order, the lamps had not been brought 
in. The moment she entered, almost before she was 
well inside the room, in fact, the young man rushed 
impulsively towards her, and said : 

“ Oh, Mrs. Ryder, my sister wants to know if she 
may leave Teddington and come up to The White 
House.” 

It was plain that in the darkness Valentine, expect- 
ing to meet old Mrs. Ryder, had taken it for granted 


I^ALPH R YDER of brent. 1 6 3 

that he was in her presence. Nanny, not anxious to 
undeceive him yet, sank at once on to a seat, lest her 
height should betray her. 

The young man, who was evidently much excited, 
babbled on at breakneck pace. 

“ You know that Captain Ryder has been ill, and 
that after an illness he always has one of these 
attacks, when nobody can manage him but my sister. 
Well, he is sure, living so near, to come straight back 
to The White House again when the fit comes on 
and then what am I to do .? The Captain is strong 
enough to murder me, and, without being a coward, 
one may dislike the pfospect. You see 

Valentine stopped short. His eyes having now 
grown accustomed to the gloom, he had perceived 
his mistake, and was overcome with consternation. 

“I suppose it was the other Mrs. Ryder, old Mrs. 
Ryder, whom you wished to see .? said Nanny 
quietly. 

“Yes-^er — it was; certainly it was. I should 
never have thought of troubling you, though I sup- 
pose, he went on, with some hesitation, “it is not 
indiscreet to infer that you know all about the — the 
Ryder secret, as I may call it ? ” 

“I know something of it, certainly,” she answered 
in a dull voice. 

Valentine was silent for a few moments. He had 
the wit to guess that she did not know everything, 
cool as she was, and he was wondering how far his 
own indiscretion had enlightened her, and whether it 
would be to his advantage to let her know still more 
than she did. He decided not to tell her the whole 
truth, but to make a bid for her gratitude by pretend- 
ing to do so. 

“ Pray don’t think me impertinent,” he began, “when 
I say that I think you are being very unfairly treated. 
If the affair could have been fcpt from your know- 
ledge altogether, I should have said: ‘Keep it from 
her by all means.’ But since something was bound 
to leak out, it would have been much fairer to do at 


1 64 RALPH R YDER OF BRENT, 

first what I propose to do now — make you fully 
acquainted with all the details of the story. ” 

Nanny, who, with youthful timidity, had sat down 
thus allowing him to take a seat also, sprang upon 
her feet again. She could not risk hearing allega- 
tions against her husband from the lips of this creature. 

‘‘Excuse me, Mr. Eley,” she said, in a trembling 
voice, but full of passion and fire; “I cannot hear 
them. I do know there is a secret, and I dare say 
you know more of it than I do. But, as you only 
learned it by accident, you have no right to commu- 
nicate it to any one else.'' 

“But if they are wronging you in keeping you in 
ignorance } " 

Nanny shook her head, at first unable to speak in 
answer, since this suggestion seemed to point un- 
mistakably in the direction of her worst fears. 

“I will wait until my husband is well enough to 
tell me himself,” she said. 

Valentine Eley came a step nearer to her. 

“ But your husband doesn't know as much as I do," 
said he in a low voice. 

Nanny turned upon him quickly. 

“ Doesn't he know that his first wife is alive ? " she 
exclaimed. 

Valentine paused before answering discreetly ; 

“All I said was that Captain Ryder doesn’t know 
as much as I do.” 

“Well,” Nanny answered with spirit, “he shall 
find it out as soon as he gets well, and then we will 
get rid of the army of blackmailers together, what- 
ever it may cost.” 

“Oh,” said Valentine, quite coolly, and with no 
trace of indignation at her uncivil suggestion, 
“if all the world knows, it won't cost much. 
Only a length of rope to one member of the family, 
and a consequent shock to the feelings of the rest. 
Good-evening. I am so sorry to have intruded upon 
you. ” 

He was quite easy, quite happy, and seemed un- 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


165 

conscious that his conduct was at all open to ques- 
tion, as he smiled upon his hostess with benignant 
blue eyes, and bowed himself out with a sidelong 
look at a mirror in which it was too dark for him to 
see more than the outline of his figure. 

Nanny remained where he had left her for nearly 
an hour, until she heard another ring at the outer 
bell, and ran out into the hall. As she had expected, 
the arrival was old Mrs. Ryder, whose face fell at 
sight of her. 

“Tve brought the curtains, dear,’' said the old 
lady with nervous haste. 

“Oh, have you .? ” said Nanny. 

“Yes, dear ; I got them at a shop in Oxford Street, 
where they are selling off, and they were so cheap. ” 

‘ ‘ That’s right, thank you. Thank you very much. ” 

“ How is Dan, dear .? ” went on the old lady, fidget- 
ing witli some small parcels, and not looking her 
daughter-in-law in the face. 

“ Oh, he’s — he’s much better. He has been awake 
a long time. We’ve been talking.” 

The old lady started. After a minute more past 
in fumbling among her purchases, she said : 

“Talking! Not — not about anything too excit- 
ing, I hope .? ” 

“No. What I have to say that is exciting I kept 
for you.” 

It was a challenge. Standing upright, the old 
lady turned to her. 

‘ ‘ What do you mean, dear .? ” she asked falter- 
ingly. 

“Are you going upstairs? If you are, I will go 
with you, if I may.” 

Without another word they went upstairs, but, on 
reaching old Mrs. Ryder’s bedroom-door, Nanny 
passed it and went straight on to the end of the cor- 
ridor, where the built-up door was. 

“ I found out to-day,” she said quietly, “ that there 
is a room behind here. ” 

In the few moments of silence which followed, she 


166 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


could hear the silk dress the old lady wore rustling 
as she stood. 

“ Well,” she said at last, that is not a great dis- 
covery. ” 

“ And I found out why it is shut up. There was a 
murder committed there. ” 

The old lady staggered, taken utterly off her guard. 
Turning sharply upon her daughter-in-law, she fal- 
tered out in a terror-stricken whisper ; 

‘ ‘ Who ioldyou ? ” 


JiALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


167 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Nanny received very quietly her mother-in-law’s in- 
voluntary confession, h'or it was a confession. The 
vehement words, ‘ ‘ Who told you } ” forced out of her 
in a moment of terror, could not be explained away. 
Old Mrs. Ryder felt this, and she walked to the near- 
est window with tottering feet, pushed up the sash, 
and leaned out, with her drawn face exposed to the 
night air, and to a fine rain which had just begun to 
fall. 

“You will get wet,” said Nanny, very gently. 

She felt a pang of pity for this fragile-looking old 
lady, who had borne the weight of a hideous secret 
for years and years. 

The old lady started back, and for a moment Nanny 
thought, as the wrinkled face appeared to soften under 
the gaze of her sympathetic eyes, that her mother-in- 
law was going to do the only wise and honest thing, 
and to tell her frankly the whole story. But the habits 
of a quarter of a century are not broken through in a 
moment ; she was secretive by nature, as most 
women are, and her tendency to undue reserve, in- 
stead of being checked by an intelligent modern edu- 
cation, had been fostered by years of brooding over 
a tragic story. She seemed to withdraw into herself 
again as she wrapped the long black velvet cloak she 
wore more closely round her, and drew a gentle, 
affected little sigh. All hope of her confidence was 
over. 

“ There really was something dreadful done in that 
room many years ago, I believe,” she said, without 
again meeting Nanny’s eyes. “ But I need not tell 
you, my dear, that we don’t talk about it. You may 
guess how old the story is when I say that Dan has 


i68 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


never even heard of it ; and I particularly beg you — 
though to a woman of your sense it is scarcely neces- 
sary to insist on this— not to mention it to him. ” 

And so the matter ended, old Mrs. Ryder walking 
back to her room as if there was no more to be said, 
Nanny returning, restless and unsatisfied, to her hus- 
band’s room. 

' For the next few days the young wife was chiefly 
occupied by the delights attending her husband’s 
gradual return to health and strength. There was 
the excitement of his sitting up in bed for the first 
time. Next followed the enjoyment of seeing him in 
a chair. And last of all came the pleasure ot lending 
him the support of her arm when he left the sick-room 
for the first time. Not that he needed this support. 
Captain Ryder was not much pulled down by his 
illness, and recovered quickly. But Nanny liked to 
think that he wanted her help. 

Old Mrs. Ryder had kept out of her daughter-in- 
law’s way since the day on which the latter had dis- 
covered the shut-up room. The only event which 
had broken the monotony of these few days had been 
a formal call on the part of the Vicar. The Reverend 
George Melladew was a Broad Churchman, with no 
more salient characteristic than a tendency to let all 
the work of the parish slip out of his own hands and 
into those of his curates, except on such occasions as 
a smart wedding or grand funeral, when he would 
conduct the service himself, to the admiration of all 
the old ladies, who thought much more of him than 
they would have done of a man weaker of voice, but 
stronger in the Christian virtues. Nanny found him 
rather a stilted, dry sort of person, and felt more 
awkward and girlish in his society than she had done 
since her marriage. She felt annoyed with herself, 
and expressed a fear to her husband that the Vicar 
had found her stupid. 

When, however, Mrs. Bambridge and two of the 
girls called, two days later, they said that Mr. Mella- 
dew had called her a charming woman. 


I^ALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


169 

“ He didn’t seem charmed,” said Nanny dubiously. 
“ He kept letting the conversation drop, and as' 1 
wasn’t clever enough to pick it up again, and Dan 
wouldn’t talk at all, most of the time was like the 
last few minutes, when the service is over, before 
one goes out of church.” 

“Well, he must have thought your silence arose 
from awe of him, and felt flattered by it,” suggested 
Laura. “ He wants to take a district.” 

“ Take a wha/ P ” cried Nanny. 

“ A district,” broke in Adela glibly. “ Its quite 
easy. You knock at the door of the cottages, and 
the woman who opens the door looks you up and 
down and dusts a chair for you. But if it’s a 
child who comes, it turns it’s back upon you and 
shouts ‘ 'M.o-lhur I ’ And you mustn’t be frightened, 
but stand still till ‘ M.o-thur ’ comes. ” 

“ But I shan’t know what to do or what to say ! ” 

“ What to do is very simple : you have only to sit 
still and smile. As for what to say, if you see an old 
woman about, or an old man, you ask after their 
rheumatism. They're sure to have rheumatism, but 
they’ll be delighted, and think you must have been 
asking about them to have learnt that. Then you ask 
the names of the children, and what standards they 
have passed. When you’ve been told, you w’ag your 
head and look surprised, as if you thought it wonder- 
ful for them to have got on so fast. Then you leave 
a tract, and you come away.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, I could never leave tracts ! ” exclaimed Nanny ; 
“ it seems so impertinent.” 

“You don’t understand,” said Laura, shaking her 
head. “ Leaving tracts at cottages is just like leav- 
ing cards at your friends’ houses : they’d be awfully 
offended if you forgot. The only difference is that 
you leave the tract whether they’re at home or not. 
They read just as much of the tract, too, as your 
friend does of the card — the name. It’s a matter of 
etiquette merely.” 

“ Dear me ! dear me ! ” broke in poor Mrs. Bam- 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


170 

bridge, with a distressed face. “You will think them 
very flippant, Captain Ryder ; but 1 assure you my 
girls are really very good at parish work, and the 
Vicar has said over and over again he doesn’t know 
what he should do without them.” 

“I don’t want to be assured that they do every- 
thing they undertake in the very best possible way. 
They carry their characters in their faces, and their 
work is done none the less well that they do it with 
smiles instead of sour looks, ”^e answered. 

The good lady beamed upon him, and proceeded 
to treasure up that speech from the great man of the 
neighbourhood, for use among her friends. He then 
asked her at what time in the evening her son Charlie 
came home from the City. To the great relief of 
Nanny, who knew on what subject her husband 
wished to question the young fellow, Mrs. Bambridge 
answered that he had gone to Germany on business 
for the firm he was with. 

“ His faculty for learning languages is something 
quite extraordinary,” added the fond mother. “He 
mastered German thoroughly in three weeks. ” 

And with this astounding statement, uttered in the 
simplest good faith, Mrs. Bambridge looked at Laura 
and prepared to take leave. 

The girls, meanwhile, had succeeded in persuading 
young Mrs. Ryder to “ take a district,” and they left 
feeling very proud of their success. 

Nanny entered upon the new duties which she had 
thus hastily undertaken that very week. Her hus- 
band encouraged her to do this, as it would give her 
an occupation while he himself was busy with an 
exhaustive study of the state of his affairs. The 
losses entailed upon him by his mother’s singular 
management of the Brent and Bicton property, and 
the extensive inroads which her allowance made upon 
his income, made this a very unsatisfactory work. 
For the elder Mrs. Ryder’s dainty little porcelain 
hands had been used all her life to grasp and to re- 
tain, as a matter of right, such good things as came 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


171 

in her way. And although she now offered most 
gracefully to do without a brougham, and even to 
sell her jewellery, her hold over her son had become, 
through long custom, so secure that he rejected the 
notion with horror, as if it had been proposed that 
he should send her to the workhouse or commit some 
other act as shockingly unfilial. 

Meanwhile, Nanny had entered upon her new 
duties, which proved much more congenial than she 
had expected. Brent was not a place where the 
worst, the most appalling poverty abounded ; the 
most distressing cases of want were to be found in 
the mushroom growth of small houses which had 
sprurlg up on the borderland of Bicton. But this part 
of the parish was not in Nanny’s “district.’’ From 
the technical point of view, she did not make a good 
“visitor.” She hurried over her visits to the people 
she did not like — the whining widow who never 
thought anybody did enough for her, and the lady 
whose piety in the morning was only exceeded by 
her inebriety at night. And she saved up her smiles 
and brightness for the families she found congenial to 
her. So that the second Miss Hutchins, who was an 
ideal “visitor,” stumping round her district like a 
clockwork train on circular rails, staying exactly ten 
minutes at each cottage, except in cases of illness, 
when the infliction lasted fifteen, felt at last bound to 
remonstrate. 

“You must excuse my taking the liberty of speak- 
ing to you, Mrs. Ryder,” she went on, when she had 
opened her subject. She had met Nanny at the cor- 
ner of the green, as she herself was squelching along 
in her goloshes to a mothers’ meeting at the school- 
room. “But I am so much older than you are, and 
I am sure your intentions are good, and so I venture 
on a little suggestion. Now, Mrs. Wheeler says that 
no one has been near her for a fortnight, and as she 
is in your district ” 

“But last time I went she slammed the door in my 
face. I couldn’t very well shout good advice at her 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


172 

through the keyhole, could I ? And I couldn’t even 
scream out ‘ How are you ? ’ For I knew how she 
was — tipsy. ” 

The second Miss Hutchins looked grave. 

“My dear young lady, you will never gain suffi- 
cient influence over her to be any check upon her 
unfortunate propensity if you treat the matter in that 
way. Remember, the sunshine and the rain fall 
equally upon the good and upon the wicked. You 
should try to act upon that precept. Now I treat all 
alike. I have a formula for each occasion, and I use 
it irrespective of persons. ” 

“And what is your formula for a closed door.?” 
asked Nanny, with a mutinous look. 

‘ ‘ I am afraid you are not taking my remarks in the 
right spirit, Mrs. Ryder. While those people you do 
like,” she went on, more severely than ever, “you 
treat exactly as if they were your own friends. Now, 
the day before yesterday you were at Mrs. Pegg’s for 
three hours.” 

“Yes,” Nanny was obliged to admit humbly, “so 
I was. Mrs. Pegg had been offered half a day’s 
washing, and the bigger children were at school, and 
her old father was in bed with rheumatism. She 
didn’t like to leave the little ones in charge of Bobby, 
because last time when she did, he tried to put the 
baby in the copper. So I offered to look after them 
till school was over.” 

“Well, of course it was kind,” conservative Miss 
Hutchins allowed. “ But it isn’t usual, and it might 
lead to jealousy.” 

“It isn’t usual to have eight children and only 
nineteen shillings a week to keep them on — at least, 
I hope not,” corrected Nanny dubiously. “And cer- 
tainly wouldn’t lead to jealousy.” 

“You are very smart with your tongue, and of 
course I know I am taking a liberty in speaking to 
you,” began the elder lady stiffly. 

Whereat Nanny broke in gently enough : ' 

“No, no, no ; please don’t speak like that. Indeed, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


173 

I know as well as you do that I don’t do my visiting 
properly. And you are one of the pillars of the parish 
work, and it is very good of you to try to help me 
to do better. But I can’t. It s all new to me, and I 
feel shy. You have weight among them, while I 
have none. Mrs. Wheeler wouldn’t have dared to 
shut the door in your face. I was asked to take this 
work, you know, and I do it in the only way I can. 
I know very well I can’t do much good. But I hope 
I don’t do much harm, and I should be sorry to have 
to give it up, as part of it I like very much.” 

Indeed, since Nanny could not help brooding over 
the gloomy family secrets, she did feel it a relief to 
have Mrs. Pegg’s welfare to think about as well as her 
own. As long as her husband was with her, she 
troubled her head very little about anything. Fo? 
she grew fonder of him every day, more appreciative 
of his devotion, more sceptical as to the possibility of 
his having ever done anything wrong. But when her 
husband had gone to town to see his solicitor, and she 
was left alone in the house with old Mrs. Ryder, 
whose visit to The Grange was not yet at an end, 
then Nanny would rejoice that she had something 
better to do than worry her head about the family 
skeletons. 

Nanny had, indeed, been on her way to Mrs. Pegg’s 
when she was attacked by Miss Hutchins ; and when 
the encounter between her and that lady had ended 
rather lamely on both sides, she went on her way to 
the cottage stubbornly, in spite of the lecture on 
favounteism which she had just received. 

Mrs.' Pegg was an industrious, kindly creature, the 
only blame attaching to whom was the fact that she 
was the mother of eight children. This, however, 
had soured the old maid district visitors against her. 
She was delighted to see young Mrs. Ryder, whose 
lively, youthful manner and kindness to the children 
had already warmed the heart of the hard-working 
woman to the pretty lady from The Grange. 

“Come in, do, maam, out of the rain,” she said. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


174 

with a courtesy. ‘‘You won’t mind the place being 
a bit untidy-like. My old father he would come 
down to-day, because he said he must see the Cap- 
tain’s lady, and so I’ve had to see to dressing him 
when I should have been scrubbing my kitchen. 
You’ll not mind his chatter, will you, ma’am .? He’s 
not exactly soft, but he just jabbers on — all about his 
graveyard mostly, for he used to be sexton at Bicton 
till they pulled down the old church and built a new 
one eight years ago — ‘ restoring ’ they called it. We 
don’t take much count of what he says. ” 

Nanny saw now where Mrs. Pegg’s own conver- 
sational fluency came from. She followed her hostess 
into the kitchen, which was also the general living- 
room ; for this tvas one of the old-^fashioned cottages, 
without the modern bay-windows and parlour. 

A white-haired old man, with the vacant, far-away 
look of the aged poor in his eyes, raised himself slowly 
and with difliculty in his chair by the fire at her 
entrance, and instantly began muttering to himself, 
with his gazedixed upon her face. Nanny started at 
sight of him. It was the old man whose words had 
alarmed her so much on the day when she and her 
husband first came to Brent together. She came up 
to him, shook him shyly by the hand, and asked if he 
was well. He shook his head slowly from side to 
side, without once removing his eyes from her face. 

“ Ah’m very weel,” he said, with a slight North- 
country accent — “considerin’, that is.” 

And he continued to stare at the young lady, still 
muttering to himself, with a persistency which made 
her blush. 

“There, Ben,” at last broke in Mrs. Pegg, whose 
bump of filial reverence did not seem to be well de- 
veloped, ‘ ‘ don’t sit lookin’ at the lady as if she was 
stuffed. Sit down, ma’am — do sit down ! ” 

And she brought forward a chaii, which Nanny 
took still feeling nervous and awkward under the 
steady gaze of the old man's eyes. At last he gave a 
portentous nod and spoke again aloud. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


175 

“Ay, ay, it do seem strange, it do, that I should 
live to see the second wife o’ the man I buried my- 
self seven-and-twenty years agone come next har- 
vest-toime.” 

“Whv, father, what nonsense are you talking? 
You’re enough to frighten the lady, with your gaping 
mouth and your silly tales.” 

She saw that the lady had grown quite white, and 
that, although she laughed, it was with an effort. 

“That wasn’t Captain Ryder, my husband,” she 
said, in a quavering voice. “The one you buried 
was Lieutenant Ryder, my husbands father.” 

The old man shook his head obstinately. 

“Lieutenant Ryder and Captain Ryder’s t’ same 
mon. He never had no son — only one daughter. 
You may see her grave in t’ owd churchyard now. 
She died o’ toyphoy fever, and I buried her.” 

Nanny listening intently, was shaking from head to 
foot. 

“But it’s that Captain Ryder’s son I’ve married, 
Ben,’’ she said, in a broken voice. 

Ben shook his head again. 

“ He hadn’t a son. They lived here alftheir mar- 
ried lives together, him and Lady Ellen, and I ought 
to know. And folks said as how he was not in his 
right mind at times, and as how it were on account o’ 
Lady Ellen bein’ a bit flighty like. A fair lass was 
Lady Ellen ! And when the child died, it was sup- 
posed he died too. And there was a funeral, and 
Lady Ellen lived at The White House like a widdy. 
And presently, when all the old folks had left Bicton, 
and t’ owd tale was forgotten, there came a brand-new 
Vicar along o’ the brand-new houses and brand-new 
folk. An’ they must needs have a brand-new church, 
and t’ owd one was pulled down, an’ a sight o’ t’ owd 
stones was destroyed. An’ the big tomb o’ Lieuten- 
ant Ryder was moved, and his coffin with it, to make 
room for the new vestry. An’ the side of the coffin 
fell in, or were smashed in — Ah don’t rightly remem- 


176 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

ber which way it was — an’ inside were no body, only 
bricks and such-like.” 

Mrs. Pegg, who had run out into the wash-house 
after one of the children, heard a scream, and ran 
back into the house, to find young Mrs. Ryder stand- 
ing up, transfixed with terror. 

“ Now, what have you been a doin’ of, frightenin’ 
the lady like that, you silly old man ! ” began Mrs. 
Pegg. 

But Nanny made a gesture to her to be silent, 
and, sitting down again spoke to him in a quiet 
tone : 

‘ ‘ But, if such a thing had happened, there would 
have been a great deal of talk, a great sensation. ” 

“ Nobody knowed about it but the Vicar an’ me. 
I was bad with the rheum atiz, and past work, they 
said ; so they paid me off, and here I be, and nobody 
takes no manner o’ notice of what I say, and — 

“And a good job too!” interrupted his daughter. 
“ He’s been telling you his old story of the coffin full 
o’ bricks, I suppose, ma’am.” 

‘ ‘ Isn’t it true, then .? ” asked Nanny quickly. 

But her heart failed her, even as she put the ques- 
tion. 

“ It’s not easy to tell, ma’am, for that part of the 
churchyard where the Ryder tombs are has been cut 
off by an iron paling, for it’s not used now, as you 
may have noticed, ma’am. But it’s not likely to be 
true, for where’s the sense of buryin’ a coffin without 
yourself in it, unless you’ve donesomethink dreadful .? 
Let alone that there must be servants or undertaker’s 
men or somebody to find out the truth, and it’s human 
nature to talk. And if there had been a great talk and 
a stir there’d be some old tales told in the parish yet, 

I should think, though so much of it is new, to be 
sure. ” 

“ Ay, that's it. I’m one of the last o’ t’ owd ones. 
And I mind there was some talk when he died, when 
he was supposed to die, that is, mostly about Lady 
Ellen ; and folks said she was out of her mind, or 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


177 

nigh it, and had to have some one alius about to see 
she did no harm to herself. ” 

“And — and what — according to your story — has 
become of — Lady Ellen 

The old man shook his head again. That was no 
part of his story. 

“Ah don’t know ; Ah don’t know.” And then, his 
narrative having come to an end, it seemed to dawn 
upon him for the first time, as he glanced at his listener’s 
face, that it might not have been altogether pleasant 
to hear. “But them’s owd tales,” he said consol- 
ingly ; “ you’ve no need to take on about them, 
ma’am. He’s a fine gentleman still, is the Captain, 
for all he’s grown a bit white about the head ; and 
if he chose to bury himself before the time to get rid 
of a light wife, why, I don’t blame him, seein’ he’s 
known how to get a better.” 

Nanny laughed faintly, and rose to go, speaking 
a few” words to the old man on indifferent subjects in 
the hope of hiding the effect his story had made upon 
her. But she looked so white and woe-begone that 
Mrs. Pegg followed her to the door solicitously, with 
an expression which portended a lecture for the old 
man by-and-by. 

“ Don’t scold him,” whispered young Mrs. Ryder, 
as she went out. 

Then, not forgetting to ask after those children who 
were at school, she bade Mrs. Pegg good-bye, and 
hurried home. 

The strange story she had heard to-day, w”hich, 
if not absolutely true in all its details, had, she felt 
sure, a measure of truth in it, disturbed her again, 
just as, with the elasticity of youth, she had got over 
the effects of her former discoveries, in the sunshine 
of her husband’s affection. 

Although she had the strength of mind to resolve to 
say nothing to her husband about old Ben’s story, she 
was unable to recover from the effects of it before 
meeting him, since he had returned from town during 
her absence from home. She found him, too, in a 
12 


1 78 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

very angry and gloomy mood. He had missed an 
appointment in town, to begin with ; on returning, 
he had asked his mother for some details concerning 
some property he had on the Thames, and had received 
a very unsatisfactory account. Out of ten good-sized 
cottages which he owned in that neighbourhood, he 
had, for the last half-year, only received the rents for 
two. When Nanny came into the study, therefore, 
she found Dan frowning over the accounts, and his 
mother sitting at the opposite side of the table, look- 
ing white and worried. 

‘ ‘ They have been cheating you, mother, ” Captain 
Ryder said, as he rose abruptly upon his wife's en- 
trance. “ It’s quite early. I’ll run down there; to-day 
and find out what the real facts are. And you, child,” 
turning to his wife, “ look as pale as a lily. I’ll take 
you with me ; it will do you good. It’s going to clear 
up and be fine for the rest of the day.” 

Nanny expressed herself delighted to go, none the 
less that she saw a look of acute terror pass over her 
mother-in-law’s face. She ran upstairs to change her 
boots for a cleaner pair, and was not surprised to hear 
old Mrs. Ryder’s knock on the door as she was but- 
toning them. Metaphorically, Nanny placed herself 
in fighting attitude as she cried “Come in.” She 
guessed what sort of encounter was in store for her. 

“ Do you want to send your husband mad .? ” was 
the old lady’s abrupt opening. 

“ No,” answered Nanny, springing to her feet and 
crossing to the door, “neither do I want to go mad 
myself, mamma. But I have gone near it lately in 
the maze of mysteries I’ve been living in. I am 
hoping that to-day may be the end of some of them.” 

“You silly, headstrong girl ! Can’t you trust the 
experience of a woman old enough to be your 
mother } I tell you there is some one living at Ted- 
dington who must be warned before Dan goes there.” 

“ Warned ! Of what ! ” 

‘ ‘ Of — of the change iii him which his illness has 
brought about.” 


HALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


179 


“What change? I can see none.” 

“You ! You have no eyes ! ” cried her mother-in- 
law contemptuously. “But there is a change. He 
is ill ; he is not himself. If he should meet ” 

Dan’s voice broke upon them, calling loudly that if 
Nanny did not come down at once they would lose 
the last available train, and have to put off their ex- 
pedition till next day. A light came into old Mrs. 
Ryder's face. She turned quickly, and made for the 
door, with the. evident intention of delaying the journey 
by stratagem. Nanny, however, was wily enough 
to guess her intention, and was outside the door in an 
instant. 

“ Good-bye, mamma ; Tm sorry I can’t wait now,” 
she cried, as she flew down the stairs. 

Her husband was standing at the bottom. He 
held out his hands, and she took them and jumped 
to the ground like a child. 

“That’s right, child. Why, what is the matter 
with you? You seem all on fire.” 

“It’s — hurry,” panted Nanny, as she dragged him 
along and out by the front door, madly eager to be 
out of range of her mother-in-law’s wiles. 

Her heart beat high with excitement. If the old 
lady were right, and if there should be some tragi- 
cally interesting encounter in store for them, was it 
not better than this eternal suspense, this frightful 
uncertainity whether she was legally Dan’s wife or 
not ? 

Yet, when once she found herself in the train with 
her husband’s loving face opposite to her, a panic of 
terror seized her lest this might be the last hour in 
which she might hold him truly as her own. 


i8o 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


CHAPTER XIV. 

Captain Ryder was very silent and thoughtful during 
the whole of the journey to Teddington. Almost the 
only remarks he made on the way were expressions 
of regret at his own folly in having allowed his 
mother to have control over his affairs for so long. 
Nanny did her best to appease his anger against the 
old lady, believing, as she did, that the latter had 
probably only retained the management of the prop- 
erty on account of her son’s attack of insanity. 

“I suppose, Dan dear, she only thought she was 
saving you trouble,” suggested Nanny timidly. 

“I suppose so. And being a lazy man, with a 
hatred of business, I have only myself to thank for 
the fact that she has made a hopeless hash of it. 
Here’s a row of ten cottages at Teddington, which 
we are going to see ; eight of them are admitted to 
be inhabited, and yet I am getting rent from only 
two of them. And the strangest part of it is that my 
mother does not err in ignorance. She seems to 
know exactly what is going on in every corner of the 
property, and yet to be quite satisfied with a state of 
things by which three-fourths of my tenants live rent- 
free at my expense ! ” 

This was a little difficult to explain, certainly. 
Poor old Mrs. Ryder could surely not be paying 
blackmail to as many as six families in order to guard 
the family secrets ! 

“I don’t even know the name of the man who is 
supposed to look after the place,” grumbled Captain 
Ryder presently. “ Only that he lives at Clairville. 
What a name to give to a cottage ! Of course, he 


iiALPH R YDER OF BRFNT. I g i 

lives rent-free. And equally of course, it is fair to 
suppose, the rents which he collects diminish greatly 
in filtering through his hands. Here we are. Now 
to explore.'’ 

Captain Ryder had never been to Teddington before, 
and did not know which way to turn until he had 
asked for directions. Nobody, however, had heard 
of a cottage called Clairville, and they might have 
returned to Brent without having found the place at 
all had not Nanny suddenly suggested to her hus- 
band not to ask for it as a cottage." 

“Perhaps they would call it a ‘house,’ down 
here, " she said, rather timidly ; for. indeed, the idea 
was born of some mistrust of old Mrs. Ryder s truth- 
fulness. 

Captain Ryder frowned at this hint, but he took it, 
and with instantaneous success. For a passing 
tradesman, on being asked if he knew a house called 
Clairville, assented at once, adding : 

“Bob Hanks's place. Go right down through the 
village, and then it’s the turning to the left, by the 
church — a good way along, facing the river.” 

Captain Ryder, after having received this direction, ^ 
walked on in silence so gloomy that Nanny wondered 
what there could have been in the man’s words to 
cause such a change in him. At last he spoke. 

“Robert Hanks,” he said suddenly, “was the 
name of a man who was for many years butler in 
our family. He was always writing to my mother 
while we were abroad. But she never explained the 
position he held here. I can’t understand it.” 

Poor Nanny shuddered, and wished her husband 
would go back without prosecuting his inquiries any 
further. If this Hanks, an old servant of the family, 
Avas now installed here as caretaker and rent-collector, 
with a liberal allowance as to perquisites, there must 
be some strong reason for such generosity ; and 
since Dan was evidently ignorant of the reason, he 
would do no good, but might do much harm, if he 
indulged in any such expression of his feelings as he 


1 82 RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 

apparently meditated. She dared not, however, do 
more than expostulate very faintly, and her husband 
paid no heed to her gentle words. 

They took the turning by the church, and came 
presently — not to a row of cottages, but, as Nanny 
had feared, to a terrace of pretentious ‘ ‘ villa resi- 
dences.” with bay windows, broad flights of steps, 
and a “private road.” 

Nanny stopped before the first of these and glanced 
timidly at her husband. On the glass above the 
door was the name “ Clairville,” in gilt letters. 

“ So this is what my rnother calls a cottage ! ” said 
Dan, as he pulled angrily at the bell. 

An old man came to the door in his shirt-sleeves, 
with a pipe in his mouth and a child in his arms, 
There was the “cut” of a servant about him still, 
and Nanny guessed that it was Robert Hanks. The 
man seemed startled at sight of Captain Ryder, whom 
he saluted with instant recognition, which did not, 
however, appear to be mutual. 

“Are you Robert Hanks.?” asked Captain Ryder. 

“Yes, sir. Will you walk in.?” 

He had taken his pipe out of his mouth, and he 
stepped back and stood aside for the lady and gentle- 
man to pass into the front room, the door of which 
he opened as he spoke. 

“ I suppose you don’t know who I am,” went on 
his visitor. 

“Oh, yes, sir,” answered Hanks readily, lowering 
his voice, however, as if there might be something 
unwelcome in the admission. “You’re Captain 
Ryder, sir.” 

Although the man’s manner was civil, there was in 
it that suggestion of latent insolence which the con- 
sciousness of power over their superiors gives to the 
vulgar. 

“ How did you know that.?” asked Captain Ryder 
abruptly. 

The man seemed rather reluctant to go into details. 

“ 1 heard lately from Mrs. Durrant, sir, as how 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


•83 

you were — you were — about, sir. And Tm very 
happy to see it, I’m sure, sir.” 

“Perhaps you won’t feel quite so happy when T 
tell you that I’ve come to inquire into the mana<^e- 
ment of these houses, cottages, or whatever you call 
them,” said Captain Ryder, who did not appear to be 
favourably impressed by his agent’s manner. “I see 
there are only two boards up, and yet 1 am only re- 
ceiving rents for two. That leaves five houses to be 
accounted for. Now, how is that } ” 

‘ ‘ If you will ask ” Suddenly the man, in whose 

tone there was a rising note of insolence, glanced at 
Nanny, stopped, and then framed his answer dif- 
ferently. “Tve given in my accounts in the usual 
quarter, sir,” he said, “and no fault has been found 
with them.” 

“ Well, but who occupies the other houses .? ” asked 
the puzzled landlord, who began to perceive that 
there was rather the insolent firmness of conscious 
right in the man’s attitude than the uneasiness of 
fearful roguery. 

‘ ‘ Mrs. Durrant has one, sir, and the rents of two 
of the others ” began the man. 

Captain Ryder echoed his words in astonishment. 

“Mrs. Durrant has one, and the rents of two of 
the others Why what on earth ” 

He stopped suddenly, and after a pause, during 
which the expression of his face grew more and 
more angry, while Hanks continued to look demurely 
at the carpet, he said in a dry tone : 

“ And the rents of the remaining two — you take 
them, I suppose .? ” 

“ Why — er — yes, sir,” answered Hanks, with per- 
fect assurance, still keeping his eyes on the ground 
as if he feared they might betray a knowledge which 
would infer a lack of respect if he raised them to his 
landlord’s face. 

Captain Ryder stood for a few moments lost in 
consideration of these remarkable disclosures. Then, 
as if mechanically, he turned to the door. Hanks 
opened it respectfully-. 


i 84 HALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 

‘‘You are satisfied, I hope, sir, now that you — 
that you understand.” 

“I don’t understand,” interrupted Captain Ryder 
shortly, as he walked through the hall towards the 
front door. 

“Well, sir, there’s others that do,” said Hanks, 
with the nearest approach to open impudence that he 
had shown ; “and it’s from them, sir, that I look for the 
wages I get for my — discretion.” 

Captain Ryder, who had reached the steps, turned 
quickly. 

“I’m afraid you will find,” said he quietly, as he 
met the man’s eyes with his own, “ that that quality 
has gone down in the market.” 

Nanny followed her husband, with her heart full of 
dread. What was he going to do next } There was 
on his face an expression of mingled bewilderment 
and anger which alarmed her, and made her ask her- 
self in terror whether he was on the brink of another 
outbreak of the mental malady which had before 
clouded his life. His lips moved as he walked along 
with bent head and flashing eyes, and he seemed to 
be talking to himself and to have forgotten her pres- 
ence altogether. 

‘ ‘ Where are you going, Dan } ” she ventured to 
ask at last. 

She had to repeat the question before he stopped 
short to answer her. 

“ I’m going to see this woman, this Mrs. Durrant, 
to hear what she has to say for hersell” 

But this proposal filled Nanny with alarm. Dan 
was angry, Mrs. Durran‘ was vindictive : what good 
could come of their meeting just now ? This woman 
had rendered him important services, she had cared 
for him when he was unable to care for himself. It 
was ungenerous, it was unlike Dan, to haggle over 
the payment now. The mere fact, too, that he ap- 
peared for the moment to have forgotten these services, 
and to speak of Mrs. Durrant as if she had been a 
stranger, frightened Nanny. His mother, Pickering, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


185 

Valentine Eley — all had uttered warnings as to the 
effects his late illness might leave upon his mind. 
Were not these effects already manifest in this un- 
natural ingratitude towards the woman who had 
tended him in his illness.? Nanny, who was even 
now a little jealous of Mrs. Durrant, remembering 
the meeting she had witnessed in the grounds of The 
White House, felt that there was something suspicious 
about this altered attitude towards her. As he had 
forgotten to ask Hanks in which house Mrs. Durrant 
lived, however, Nanny was hoping the interview 
might even yet be avoided, when, just as they reached 
the end of the private road, she saw the lady who had 
been caretaker at The Grange coming towards them. 

Nanny hung back, feeling a strong reluctance to be 
present at the meeting between her husband and the 
woman who was identified with the period of his 
insanity. Captain Ryder had turned round and was 
looking at the terrace they had just passed, as if 
wondering which was the house he wanted. As he 
stood thus, his wife nervously watching him from the 
other side of the road, whither she had hastily re- 
treated, Mrs. Durrant, who had no companion but a 
small fox-terrier, sauntered up. She was so much occu- 
pied in calling to the dog which, being little more than 
a puppy, had not yet learnt to follow very well, that she 
took no notice of either of the two visitors. Nanny 
noticed that Dan continued to stare at the houses, 
without appearing to recognise the lady’s voice. 

It was not until Mrs. Durrant was close to him 
that he turned round, being, indeed, obliged to move 
then, as he was standing in the middle of the narrow 
footpath. As they thus met face to face, she uttered 
an exclamation of amazement, and then, putting her 
hand on his sleeve, said in a loud, hearty voice : 

Ralph, my dear old Ralph, what on earth brings 
you here .? ” 

Captain Ryder drew himself up and stared at her 
with a frown. 

“ I have come here to look after my rents, madam,’" 
he answered simply. 


i86 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


Mrs. Durrant started, withdrew her hand from his 
arm, and retreated a couple - of steps, staring at him 
in her turn. Then from him her eyes wandered to 
Nanny, who had come a little nearer, and was stand- 
ing in the middle of the road. So they all stood for 
a few seconds, which seemed interminable to Nanny. 
Captain Ryder continued to look with frigid amaze- 
ment at the lady, who, on her side, seemed at first to 
be struck dumb with dismay. Recovering herself 
speedily, however, she burst out into loud, hysterical 
laughter, reeled from the path into the road, and fell 
down unconscious. 

Captain Ryder looked down at the figure prostrate 
in the dust with an expression of contempt and 
disgust, which changed to one of deep annoyance 
as he glanced at his wife, as the latter stooped to 
raise the woman’s head. 

“Don’t touch her, child. I’ll call Hanks. Per- 
haps he can tell us where the woman lives.” 

Appalled by his callousness, Nanny glanced up at 
him, uncertain what to do. 

At that moment, however, the door of one of the 
houses in the terrace flew open, and a white-capped 
maid ran down the steps towards the group. 

“ Oh, she's fainted ! Oh, what have they done to 
you, ma’am .? ” cried the girl. 

To Nanny’s surprise, she saw, as she looked up, a 
look of recognition pass between Dan and the ser- 
vant, who was an exceedingly pretty young girl. It 
was not a nod or a smile on either side, but it was 
a quite conclusive sign that they had met before. 
Indeed, the girl’s next words confirmed this im- 
pression, 

“ Oh, sir,” she said indignantly, “to think of your 
leaving her to lie in the road like that ! ” 

“Is she your mistress ” he asked, with an ap- 
pearance of sudden interest. 

The girl did not answer him. She was busily 
lifting Mrs. Durrant’s head from the ground. 

“Come, Nanny; she is all right. We can do 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 1 87 

nothing more,” said he impatiently to his wife, as he 
raised her from her stooping position over Mrs. 
Durrant, who had now opened her eyes. 

Nanny felt stupefied with terror at his strange 
behaviour. But she obeyed without a word, and 
allowed him to draw her arm through his and lead 
her away, as she saw Mrs. Durrant was rapidly 
recovering. 

‘ ‘ Hadn’t we better stay, Dan, until she can go into 
her house.? I thought — I thought you wanted to 
speak to her,” faltered Nanny. 

“So I did, but then I did not expect to find her in 
this condition.” 

“Condition! What do you mean by 'this con- 
dition, ’ Dan .? ” 

“Why, that the woman is undoubtedly tipsy. 
Didn’t you see her seize me, and hear her call me by 
my Christian name.?” 

“ Yes,” whispered Nanny hoarsely. 

“Well, could you want any further proof that she 
was tipsy .? A woman whom I never saw before in 
my life ! ” 

Nanny almost staggered. Was he trying to deceive 
her .? Or had he really forgotten .? The poor child 
did not know which to believe, or which to hope. 
There was in his manner, and in the expression of 
his face, an absorption which was quite new to her. 
He said little, and she was equally silent, as they re- 
traced their steps along the road as far as the church. 
From time to time, however, he shot down at her 
grave, frightened face a keen, suspicious glance, 
under which her eyes fell. At the corner by the 
church he stopped. 

“ You must be tired,” he said shortly. “We must 
try to find some place where I can get you -a cup of 
tea. Let me see, the river runs on the left. If we 
take this road, then we are sure to find an inn or some 
place for refreshment on the bank.” 

His guess proved a safe one. The road they took 
led past another terrace of red-brick villas on the one 


1 88 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 

side, and a row of picturesque cottages on the other, 
straight to the ferry over the river ; and close to the 
water’s edge, on the right hand, was a trim garden 
running up to a snug little riverside inn, where, at 
this late season of the year, only a couple of local 
idlers were holding revel. 

Captain Ryder and his wife had the coffee-room to 
themselves. 

It seemed to the latter, who, however, took care 
not to appear to be watchful, that Dan was restless 
and uneasy. He complained, too, of headache, 
which Nanny knew to be a bad sign, and although 
he made no further reference to the events of the after- 
noon, he evidently brooded over them, and glanced 
furtively at his wife from time to time as if wonder- 
ing what she thought of it all. 

When they had had some tea, Nanny, who saw 
that her husband was very tired, persuaded him to 
lie down on the little horsehair sofa. He had done 
too much in one day for a man who had been re- 
cently ill, and she was afraid of the combined effects 
of fatigue and excitement upon him. To her great 
relief, in a few minutes he fell asleep. 

Nanny stole to the window and looked out. The 
darkness of night was coming on. Already the 
dahlias and chrysanthemums had lost their bright 
colours, and the green of the trim lawn and of the 
evergreen shrubs had melted into gray. The October 
evening breeze shook the yellowing leaves otf the 
trees until they sprinkled the grass and lay in little 
heaps on the gravel-walks. The river ran, like a 
glistening thread of silver-grey, not fifty feet away 
from the window, and the sound of the rushing 
water at the weir made an unceasing accompani- 
ment to the rough voices of the men at the ferry. 

A voice which Nanny recognised startled her by 
asking a question of someone who stood near the 
inn door. 

“Has my son been round.? I expected him at 
home before now.” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 1 89 

It was the voice of the old ex-butler Robert Hanks. 
Nanny, in desperate excitement, drew back a little. 
But it was too dark for anyone outside to see her as 
she stood behind the muslin curtains. 

The answer was in the landlord’s voice. 

“ Ypur son ? Yes. He was in the bar just now. 
Said he was going to have a pipe in the garden be- 
fore going home. Hi, Thomas ! ” he went on, rais- 
ing his voice, “here’s the old man come after you.” 

A youngish man in a light suit, who, to judge by 
his face and bearing, belonged to a far less respect- 
able type than his father, sauntered up from a sum- 
mer-house at the bottom of the garden. He was 
smoking a pipe with the air of a man who rarely 
did anything more laborious. His father, who was 
evidently still at a high pitch of excitement over 
the visit of his landlord, seized him by the arm, and, 
thrusting him into a seat on the lawn, began to pour 
into the younger man’s ear, in a low voice, the 
history of the visit he had had that afternoon. 

The window of the coffee-room was a little way 
open, and Nanny did not scruple to push it up a little 
higher, and to listen with all her ears. 

At first, however, the old man, mindful of the near 
neighbourhood of the house, and consequently of 
possible listeners, kept his voice so low that Nanny 
could scarcely catch one word. But as his excitement 
rose, his tones rose also, and at last she could plainly 
hear his indignant protests at the treatment he had 
received. 

“ If I’d been just a old servant, and nothing more, 
it would be shabby, ” was the first sentence which she 
could clearly make out, “to wish to deny me the 
means to pass my old age in comfort. And them as 
well able to afford it as the Ryders too ! But when it 
comes to a family as I may say I hold in the holler 
of my hand ! ” 

“Eh ” ejaculated the young man, half stupidly, 
“the what.? ” 

‘ ‘ The holler of my hand, ” repeated his father 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


190 

doggedly. “That’s what I said, and thats what I 
mean. Do you think the old lady, who was always 
a near one, would have let me have the rents of two 
of these houses and the use of a third for all these 
years for nothing Not she ! ” 

“No, of course not. I always understood it was 
for holding your tongue about the old gentleman’s 
goings on when he was off his head.” 

“ That’s not all, not half all. What would that 
matter at this time of day if that was all ” 

“Why, it wouldn’t be nice for the family for it to be 
known that the old gentleman, in a fit of D. T., killed 
his own child ! ” 

Nanny listening, with white, parted lips and 
starting eyes, at the window, scarcely repressed the 
cry which seemed to tear her breast. 

The old man laughed hoarsely. 

“Why, that’s nothing to what / know — that’s 
nothing to what Fm paid for keeping quiet ! ” cried the 
old man, as his voice became tremulous with excite- 
ment. “And keep it quiet I have, even from you, 
my own son ; and would have done till my dying day 
if they’d only treated me fair. But now I’m threatened 
with being turned out after all these years, I’ve done 
with them ! And I don’t care who knows what I 
know, and that is that the gentleman who murdered 
his little daughter Ellen in the corner-room at Brent 
Grange never died at all, though he is supposed to be 
buried in Bicton Churchyard ! ” 

Nanny felt her knees give way under her. She 
clung to the window-sill, leaning her wet face on her 
hands. The darkness had set in rapidly during the 
last few minutes ; the colours of the garden had all 
sunk to gray and black ; and the river, with the last 
rays of daylight upon it, shone more brightly in the 
dusk. 

The younger man was startled also. 

“Come, I say, guv’nor, ain’t that pitching it rather 
strong .? ” 

‘ ‘ It’s as true as I’m sitting here, returned the old 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


19I 

man, slapping^ his knee. “They managed it, Lady 
Ellen and her people, very careful and clever, and even 
the undertakers men didn’t know but what there 
was a man in the coffin. But somebody always finds 
out these things, and that somebody was me. They 
paid me off handsome, and handsomely I’ve kept their 
secret till to-day, when in walks the very man who 
was supposed to be put underground, and says, says 
he, ‘ Discretion’s gone down in the market,’ says he. 
And with that he threatens, or as good as threatens, 
to turn me out.” 

There was a pause, duriiig which the elder man 
slapped his knee again, and the younger ejaculated 
from time to time, “Well, I’m blest ! ” and similar 
sympathetic observations. He was a practical young 
man, however, and not needlessly vindictive. 

‘ ‘ Well, but what good will it do you to round on 
’em now.?” he asked presently. “Nobody would 
believe you after all this time. You can’t do rich 
folks like that no harm, unless you’re richer than 
them.” 

The old man shook his head knowingly. 

“There’s somebody else will do that for ’em,” he 
said drily. ‘ ‘ That Mrs. Durrant — she’s a party that 
can keep a thing close, too — she’s been treated just 
the same way. And she’s simply packed up her 
things and gone off, with a look in her eye that bodes 
no good to somebody. She didn’t not to say exactly 
confide in me, but she just said that if the Ryders 
had treated me rough, I needn’t fret ; for she was 
just going to set about such a revenge on ’em as 
they’d never forget. Ay, and she looked as if she 
meant it, too ! ” 

Nanny shivered. Every word these men uttered 
was like a fresh blow. 

“ I might be sorry for him, knowing the life her ■ 
ladyship used to lead him, and how it was that that 
drove him to drink, if he hadn’t had the impudence 
to bring with him this afternoon a little lass as pretty 
as a picture, and calls himself her husband I’ll be 


192 


HALPH RYDER OF BRRNT. 


bound ! And me knowing her ladyship's alive all 
the time ! I say it's a shame, and it'll serve him right 
if Mrs. D. do make him suffer." 

Nanny fell back half fainting, and lay for a few 
minutes in a heap on the floor, with her head against 
a chair. 

Then Dan's voice startled her, almost drawing a 
cry from her dry lips. 

“ Nanny, Nanny, my darling, where are you ? " 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT 


193 


CHAPTER XV. 

At the sound of her husband’s voice Nanny dragged 
herself to her feet and tottered unsteadily across the 
room- towards him. 

There was no light in the room, the service, in 
these olf-season times, being of a very perfunctory 
kind. 

“ Are you ill, Nanny .? What is the matter ? Why 
don’t you answer me .? ” 

His tone was pettish and irritable. 

“No, I am quite, well, dear,” she answered, trying 
hard to steady her voice, but not entirely succeed- 
ing. 

A murderer ! The murderer of his own child ! She 
did not want the light to come, dreading as she did, 
to look again upon his face. But yet she must make 
some excuse to keep away for a few minutes from 
the touch of his hands. So she crossed the room to 
the fireplace, and pretended to fumble for the bell- 
handle. 

“You have been asleep, dear, I think,” she said; 
“ and I did not want them to wake you by bringing 
the light in. But I think we really must have some 
illumination now.” 

He muttered an assent, and, raising himself slowly 
from the sofa, went towards the window. 

‘ ‘ Why, I do believe there is that rascal Hanks ! ” 
he exclaimed, peering out into the dusk. “I have a 
great mind to go out to him and ” 

Before he could utter another word, Nanny had 
flown across the room to him, and was hanging on 
his arm. The thought that he might, by further 
rousing the anger of the ex-butler, be running igno- 
rantly into danger, brought back in a moment enough 

13 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


194 

of her old feelings of affection and loyalty to make 
her eager to protect him. Looking out, she saw that 
Hanks and his son had left the seat near the window 
and had strolled down as far as the waters edge. 
She pulled down the sash, saying as she did so : 

‘ ‘ I shouldn't trouble myself any more about the 
fellow, Dan. Or, if you must take any further steps 
in this matter of the rent, why, I am sure it would be 
better to put it in your lawyer’s hands.” 

She ended this speech in a low voice, for the girl 
who now filled the places of waiter, barmaid, and 
chambermaid had come in with candles. Nanny 
herself pulled down the blind; she did not want 
Hanks to see her husband again. 

Dan looked at her in astonishment. It was quite 
a new role for his girl-wife, that which she was now 
playing — of adviser. And that half-tremulous assu- 
rance of manner with which she was moving about, 
surely that was something new also. To the newly-^ 
married husband, however, every change of mood in 
his young wife was adorable, and, as soon as the 
girl had left the room, Dan followed Nanny to the 
glass, before which she was putting on her hat. She 
blushed with fear. He would see the change in her 
face, she was sure. She herself saw it, and knew 
that the horrible definite knowledge learned in the 
past half-hour had made her older, years older. 

But Dan saw only the charm of a fresh mood, and 
he came behind her, and clasped her in his arms, 
and laughed at her for her sermons. Nanny’s eyes 
filled suddenly with tears as they met his, and he 
asked her, with tender solicitude, what was the 
matter. 

“ Nothing, nothing, nothing,” she answered, laugh- 
ing almost hysterically. ‘ ‘ It was only a silly thought 
that came into my head. ” 

“Well, and what was the thought.? Of course it 
was silly, coming through that little head ; it ac- 
quired the head’s own quality. But what was it ? ” 


RALP^I RYDER OF BRENT, 


*95 

Nanny hesitated, and hid her head on his shoulder 
trembling convulsively. 

“I was only thinking — that one must always like 
people — for what they are to one’s self. That is all 
one must trouble about. So you like me,” she went 
on in jerks, with her head still buried, ‘‘because of 
what I am to you ; and you don’t like me any the 
less because I was a. rather tiresome and disobedient 
daughter. And so I — like you ” 

Her voice broke, and Dan finished the sentence for 
her in a grave and rather preoccupied tone : 

“ So you like me, little one, even if you think it is 
a shame that I should turn out a lot of lazy ruffians 
who have been allowed for years to draw a comfor- 
table income for doing nothing whatever.” 

“But, Dan dear, your mother must have known 
what she was about. I don’t think she is particularly 
openhandedj and if she paid these people highly, I 
.expect it was ‘for value received.’” 

It was a difficult suggestion to make, for Nanny 
could not tell with what half-memories he might be 
struggling. His face clouded, indeed, and with frowns 
he seemed to be trying to recall some lost impression. 
However, he only said abruptly : 

“ Of course. We must get back home, and wrestle 
with her constitutional inability to tell more than one- 
sixteenth of the truth. ” 

And he seemed on the instant to bum with im- 
patience to be home, rang the bell, paid the bill and 
hurried Nanny up through the village to catch the 
next train. 

They were only at the station just in time. But 
Nanny saw, as they ran along the platform and dashed 
headlong into the nearest compartment, the face of 
Mrs. Durrant at the window of the next carriage but 
one. 

They came face to face with her at Bicton Station, 
where she secured the only fly, and loudly gave the 
direction to The White House. Captain Ryder heard 
this, and looked at her with an expression of strong 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


196 

disapprobation, but he made no remark. Indeed, 
his manner puzzled his wife greatly. She saw that 
he was both perplexed and annoyed. From time to 
time he would put his head in his hands, and remain 
for some minutes without uttering a word. Then 
presently he would start up and smile at her, or ad- 
dress to her some remark full of playful affection, but 
without the slightest allusion to the matters which 
were evidently troubling him. The poor child, with 
her heart bleeding with pity for him, could only wait 
and watch. 

On arriving at Brent Grange they were met by a 
piece of news which surprised neither of them. Old 
Mrs. Ryder had left for town. She had written a 
pretty little note to her daughter-in-law, and put it 
on the latter's writing-table. Having just heard, the 
note said, of the illness of a dear old friend, the writer 
felt bound to return to Kensington for a few days, but 
she hoped that, now Dan was well again, they would 
not mind. She would be back again in a week, or 
before then if they wanted her ; and she remained, 
with a thousand kisses, her dear Nanny's affectionate 
mother. 

Dan read the missive through without a word. 
Nanny wished he would not be so silent This taci- 
turnity seemed to her ominous. She dressed for din- 
ner, which had been kept back for them till nine o'clock, 
in her prettiest frock ; she exerted herself to be lively 
and sweet to him. But during the progress of the 
meal a heavy gloom seemed to settle upon him, before 
which at last her efforts grew faint and weak, until at 
last, when dessert had been placed on the table, and 
they were left alone together in the big room, they sat 
on in a dead silence, and there was no sound in 
the room but the soft little splash of a rose-water table- 
fountain, one of Nanny’s few wedding presents, and 
formerly the delight of her heart. 

“Shall we go, dear? " she said at last. 

For the candles, with their pretty little silk shades, the 
sparkling glass, the great silver shells piled with fruit. 


liALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


197 

had begun to swim in a mist of tears before her eyes. 
There was a wicked spirit haunting her husband, the 
young wife felt, which might rise and seize him at 
any moment from out of those remote dark corners 
where sombre family portraits kept guard over ancient 
presses and chests. 

Dan looked up with a start, and Nanny, trembling, 
repeated her words. 

‘‘ Oh, yes, yes, we will go,’’ said he absently. 

And he held open the door for her. and followed her 
out. But before she could turn to take his arm, as she 
meant to do, to take him to the drawing-room, where 
she meant to try the effect on him of such musical 
accomplishments as she possessed, he had slipped 
away quietly to his study, and she was left alone. 

The study ! Nanny did not like his going into the 
study, which, from the frights both she and her hus- 
band had suffered there, had acquired in her eyes the 
character of a haunted room. He had not been in 
there since his accident, and it was with a super- 
stitious feeling that there was something unlucky, 
uncanny, about the apartment, which boded ill to her 
husband, that Nanny, after a little hesitation, went 
slowly across the hall towards the passage which led 
to the study. Even the rustle of her frock, a light 
gray silk, Nanny’s very best, frightened her, and made 
her hurry faster along the polished floor. 

But when she got to the study-door, she felt too 
timid to knock at it. After all, what excuse could she 
give } It was the very essence of the poor young 
wife’s trouble that she dared not confess to her husband 
what it was that distressed her — dared not even hint 
to him that she knew his secret, and shared his evident 
fear lest his madness should return. 

She heard him throw open one of the windows — 
heard him unlock his cigar-cabinet, and presently 
strike a light. Should she go in now and try to per- 
suade him to smoke in the drawing-room, as his, 
mother had always forbidden him to do } Or, at 
least, should she ask that she might stay with him in 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


198 

the study, pleading that she felt lonely, as she asked 
herself these questions, and brought her little knuckles, 
ready for the knock, nearer and nearer to the door, 
she heard a sudden and loud noise inside the 
room. 

A chair had fallen with a crash into the fireplace, 
and Dan had uttered a loud cry and an oath. 

Then : “ Who are you ? What are you P It s gone 
— gone ! ” she heard him say in a husky whisper. 

The next moment she was in the room. 

Dan was leaning back against the wall by the 
window, with his head bent on his breast, and wild 
eyes. A couple of candles were on the table, dicker- 
ing in the draught. There was no one else in the 
room, no one in the darkness outside. Nanny shut 
the door, came timidly up to him, and tried to put 
her white arm, which was bare to the elbow and shin- 
ing with diamonds he had given her, through his. 

He looked up at her with a heavy, gloomy face, 
and shrank away, repulsing her, but very gently. 

“Go away, child ! ” said he hoarsely. “ 1 — I have 
seen — seen — something. I — I am afraid, Nanny, my 
darling, darling wife, I have done you an awful, un- 
speakable wrong ! 

In a paroxysm of anguish, the man thrust his head 
into his hands, sobbing aloud, pressing his fingers, 
his nails, into his desh as if he would tear it from the 
bones. Nanny shook from head to foot, but it was 
with no seldsh distress, but with pain for him, with 
sympathy for him, the man she loved, in his fearful 
distress. 

“Don’t push me away! Oh, let me come near 
you — let me comfort you, Dan I I am your wife — 
your own loving wife I ” she cried imploringly. 
“What you say doesn’t matter. What you have 
done doesn’t matter. Nothing in the world matters 
to me but this — that I love you, that I am your 
wife 1 ” 

But he hardly seemed to hear her. As she pressed 
herself against him, trying to twine her arms about 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


199 


his neck, he suddenly looked up, and, seizing her 
arms in his hands, held her away from him and 
looked into her eyes. 

“ I — I have delusions," he said, in a low voice. 

But to Nanny this was no fresh blow. It was with 
only a more tender note of pity in her voice that she 
said : 

“Have you, Dan? Then let me comfort you. 
See, Dan, my love is no delusion. While 1. am with 
you it will be all right. You will see nothing but my 
face." 

But he drew back, and, looking into her eyes with 
plaintive intentness, said : 

“Nanny, you have seen this coming upon me! 
Tell me, you have, have you not?" Then, as she 
did not answer, but lowered her eyes, he sighed, and 
went on : “ There is no need for you to answer me. 

I have seen it in your face." 

After a few moments of silence, during which she 
tried, by gentle caresses which he scarcely seemed to 
notice, to impress him with a comforting feeling of 
her watchful love, she spoke again, in a very low, 
tender voice : 

“I think you are not well yet, Dan, and that is 
why you fancy strange things," she said. “ 1 think 
you ought to see a doctor — not Dr. Haynes, but 
some one who has known you longer, who attended 
you when " 

She stopped, unable to utter the terrible words in 
her mind. Dan seemed to be roused into a little 
more life and energy by the suggestion. 

“There is some one I ought to see," he said — 
“some one who will understand this ; at least, I think 
so. I will see her to-morrow." 

Nanny’s face clouded. She could not doubt that 
he alluded to Mrs. Dnrrant, whom he had that very 
afternoon treated with so little ceremony. What 
treatment could he now expect at the hands of this 
woman, whose vindictive expression of face, as they 
met at the station, had impressed Nanny so strongly ? 


200 RALFH RYDER OF BRENT. 

Dan went on, after a short pause, as if thinking 
aloud : 

And then I will go straight on to Durham, and 
find out how things are managed there : whether, 
for instance, there are any more old pensioners 
eating up the rents, by my mother’s special favour.” 

“Perhaps the change will do you good, Dan, if 
you don’t worry yourself too much about things you 
find going wrong. When shall we start } ” asked 
Nanny. 

, Captain Ryder looked down at her inquiringly; 
then laughed and patted her on the shoulder. 

“ We start ! ” echoed he. “I am not going to take 
you, child. I have taken you on one of these inquiry 
expeditions, you see,” he went on in a coaxing tone, 
as he noticed the sudden change on her face to blank 
disappointment, anxiety, and even suspicion, “and I 
find it does not answer. I can’t relieve my feelings 
by bad language when you are present, you know, 
little one.” 

“You could leave me at the hotel when you wanted 
to scold the people,” suggested she. “Wouldn’t you 
miss me, Dan?” she went on imploringly. “Are 
you so anxious to go away from me already ? ” 

Dan looked down at her tenderly. 

“I shall miss you, Nanny, every hour that I am 
away. But — I must go alone.” 

She attempted no more persuasion. Her arms fell 
away from his neck, as a torrent of passionate suspi- 
cion overwhelmed every other feeling in her heart. If 
she had not had so much foundation for her doubts 
of his straightforwardness, his firmness in this matter 
would have appeared only consistent with his usual 
adoring but autocratic attitude towards her. But his 
flat denial that he had ever seen Mrs. Durrant before 
that afternoon, and his evident recognition of her 
servant, had prejudiced in Nanny’s mind every state- 
ment he might make. She was too miserable, too 
heart-sick, and withal too much afraid of what the 
consequences might be, to make any open accu- 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


201 


sation against him ; but she drew herself away from 
him and sat down on a chair by the bookcase with a 
look on her face which ought to have been eloquent 
enough for a newly-married man to read. 

Captain Ryder, however, seemed blind to looks 
and deaf to tones. With his eyes for the most part 
fixed straight in front of him, as if the delusion of 
which he had spoken was again upon him, he men- 
tioned mechanically some details of his proposed 
journey : the time at which he would start next day, 
the number of hours he would be in the train, which 
showed her that he had arranged this expedition 
beforehand. 

And this again woke suspicions in Nanny which he 
could not lull to rest. 

What was the “ delusion ” of which he had spoken ? 
She asked herself this question a dozen times that 
night as, uneasy and wakeful, she lived through 
again, in many distorted shapes, the events of the 
day. Had he really seen Lady Ellen again, as he 
had seen her on the occasion of his accident ? And 
had she really been married to him ? Nanny felt com- 
paratively little uneasiness on this last score. If Lady 
Ellen were Dan’s wife, would she content herself 
with these stealthy, abortive visits to The Grange, 
and allow a younger woman to fill her rightful place 
without one open protest ? It seemed to Nanny that 
this idea was absurd. On the other hand, why should 
the sight of her — if, indeed, he had seen her — fill Dan 
with so much horror ? 

After a restless night, both Captain Ryder and 
Nanny, heavy-eyed and unrefreshed, sat like spectres 
over an almost untasted breakfast. Both were dis- 
turbed and unhappy, though neither made further 
confession to the other. Both felt a sensation of 
relief, mingled with the pain of their first parting, as 
they bade each other good-bye at Bicton Station. 

“You’ll write to me, won’t you? ” said Nanny, as 
she looked up wistfully, and yet with trouble in her 
eyes, to her husband, as he stood at the window of 


202 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


the railway-carriage. “Because I shan’t know where 
to write to myself till you do. But perhaps you don’t 
want my letters — perhaps you would rather not be 
bothered,” she added, with a touch of half-plaintive 
coquetry, as he did not at once answer. 

“Well, you know,” said he at last, “I shan’t be 
gone long, and I may be moving about. ” 

A shade crossed the young wife’s face. He did 
not want her to write to Durham ! Why.? Suspicion, 
jealousy supplied the answer. 

As the train moved out of the station, an idea — a 
miserable, tormenting idea — returned to her. He had 
let out, perhaps accidentally, the fact that it was a 
woman whom he intended to consult about his 
“ delusions.” Nanny had at once jumped to the con- 
clusion that this woman was Mrs. Durrant. Where 
and when, then, was he going to meet her.? Or was 
it by letter only that this consultation was going to 
take place? 

Nanny pondered these things as she was being 
driven back to The Grange in her little brougham. 
On the way she saw the object of her speculations, 
Mrs. Durrant, with a small bag in her hand, evidently 
on a shopping expedition. She stopped the carriage 
and jumped out. 

“Oh, Mrs. Durrant,” she cried humbly, “may I 
speak to you for one minute.” 

She did not know what she was going to say, and 
she stood before the other woman, feeling miserably 
awkward and uncomfortable, remembering that most 
unsatisfactory meeting of the previous day. Mrs. 
Durrant looked at her with a bold and supercilious 
stare, compressing her’ lips meanwhile with an ex- 
pression of undisguised malice. 

“I am quite at your service, Mrs. Ryder, for as 
long as you please,” she said, with elaborate mock- 
courtesy. 

Poor Nanny did not know what to say. 

“ I am so sorry,” she began, “ for what happened 
yesterday. And I can’t understand it at all. The 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


203 

only explanation I can think of is that my husband 
didn’t want me to know that he had ever been — been 
— ill in his mind,” mumbled the poor young wife, 
trying in vain to find a more euphemistic phrase, 
‘ ‘ and so he pretended not to know you. Of course, 
I know very well that he did know you, and — and 
that he is not really ungrateful to you. You do 
understand, and — and you won’t blame him, will 
you ! ” 

During this speech Mrs. Durrant’s face had grown 
impenetrably cold. Nanny’s heart sank as she looked 
at her. 

“You do me more than justice, Mrs. Ryder,” she 
said. ‘ ‘ What gratitude the Ryders have to show me 
will be for favours to come. ” 

It was only the threat of an angry woman, but it 
was uttered in such a white-heat of revengeful feeling 
that it struck terror into Nanny. She was so much 
afraid, however, of any harm which this woman 
might do to Dan, and so anxious for an explanation 
about the mysterious Lady Ellen, that she persevered 
in attempting to soften her. 

“Indeed,” she began again gently, “you would 
find it very easy to earn mine if you liked to try. 
There are things which puzzle me dreadfully, and 
about which I can’t ask my husband, which I should 
be so very grateful to have explained to me.” 

Mrs. Durrant’s mouth relaxed a little. From curi- 
osity or some other cause, her attitude became more 
conciliatory. 

‘ ‘ Things explained ! ” she said. ‘ ‘ What things ? ” 

“About — about Lady Ellen, for one thing,” an- 
swered Nanny simply. “Who is she.? Where does 
she live .? Why does she haunt the place, without 
ever openly coming forward .? Twice she has alarmed 
my husband by appearing to him ” 

Mrs. Durrant became, on the instant, all closest 
attention. 

“At least,” corrected Nanny cautiously, “I think 
it must have been she. Who else could it have been 


204 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


to alarm him ? And why did it alarm him ? These 
questions puzzle me all night and all day/’ 

And Nanny put her hands up to her head. A 
minute after, as there came no answer, she suddenly 
looked up, and caught on Mrs. Durrant’s face an elo- 
quent, unmistakable look of mingled amusement, 
delight, and malice. I'he young wife grew hot and 
cold. What had she done.? What secret had she 
betrayed .? Her companion seemed to recollect her- 
self, and answered demurely : 

“I should be very happy to afford you the infor- 
mation you require if it were in my power, Mrs. 
Ryder. Unfortunately, I have never even heard of 
Ivady Ellen Ryder, and therefore 1 cannot tell you 
why her appearance, or her supposed appearance, 
alarms your husband. Good-morning.” 

“Good-morning,” said Nanny, trembling, as she 
got into the brougham. 

What had she done .? Had she played into the 
hands of this woman, and betrayed to her something 
she had better have kept to herself.? 

Nanny passed a day and a night of torment. She 
received a telegram from her husband, sent from an 
hotel in Durham, and so far her suspicions were set 
at rest. He had gone up there as he had arranged. 

But as the second day wore on she again grew sus- 
picious and uneasy. Why did he not write .? 

By the evening post, however, she got a letter. 
Affectionate, but short and unsatisfactory, it roused 
again all her vague fears. 

“ Don’t expect another letter from me for a few 
days,” so ran the latter part of the note : “an old 
friend has offered to take me on a cruise, and I may 
not have a chance of posting to you for some days. ” 

“ For some days ! ” For some days ! Where was 
he going for those some days .? Suspicion grew in the 
young wife’s breast until, taking definite form at last, 
it took shape in this thought : Supposing that, feel- 
ing his malady returning upon him, he was going to 
put himself again under supervision, as he had done 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


205 

before, and made the yachting cruise an excuse for 
not writing to her ! 

Nanny flew across the long drawing-room, where 
she was sitting alone at her work, as this thought 
darted into her mind. The White House ! The 
White House ! That was where he must have been 
shut up. Mrs. Durrant’s return thither had probably 
been planned by her husband himself This last idea 
maddened her, but it could not be stifled. 

She must go there at once ; she must find out 
whether her husband was deceiving her, whether 
this horrible curse had indeed descended upon him 
again. 

Quickly, silently, she crept up the stairs of the big 
and now lonely house, put on a cloak and bonnet, 
and ran out into the grounds by a side-door. Like a 
hare, she fled in the dusk through the avenues of yel- 
lowing trees and along the lonely roads towards The 
White House. 

When she reached it dusk had fallen ; the great 
mansion, still looking more than half deserted, seemed 
to glare at her in the faint light. There was a lamp 
in one of the rooms, and Nanny saw between the cur- 
tains the figures of Mrs. Durrant and her brother. She 
crept close to the barred iron gates, and looked 
through into the tangle of shrubs in the garden. Some- 
thing — some one was moving there — creeping slowly 
through the bushes. Nanny kept quite still, and held 
her breath. The figure came nearer. It was a man’s. 
Was it Pickering .? 

No, no, no ! This word seemed to ring through 
her brain like the din of a hammer. The man came 
nearer ; she remained quite still. He passed close to 
where she stood, and Nanny had the self-command 
not to cry aloud. But it was partly because she felt 
stunned. 

For the face that looked out, with haggard, restless, 
mad eyes, through the bars in the fading light, was 
that of Ralph Ryder. 

“ Dan ! My husband ! ” 


2o6 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


The words were formed by her lipsj but not sounded. 
Slowly he went on, forcing his way painfully through 
the tangled shrubbery, while the heartbroken woman 
clung to the bars with a face as wild and haggard as 
his own. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


207 


CHAPTER XVI. 

The road was deserted. There was no near sound but 
the crackling- and rustling of the shrubs as the unhappy- 
maniac slunk away from the gate, to the bars of 
which Nanny was clinging. The great white house 
was growing gray as the twilight faded rapidly into 
night.. The figures of Mrs. Durrant and her brother 
Valentine were more plainly visible than ever through 
the curtains of the room on the first-floor in which 
they were sitting. 

Nanny at length found voice enough for a hoarse cry; 

“ Dan ! ” 

There was no answer, but the rustling and crackling 
amongst the shrubs ceased. 

“ Dan ! ” she repeated. “ Oh, Dan, answer me ! 
Come, let me speak to you for one moment, only one 
moment, Dan ! ” 

The noise among the boughs and the dead leaves 
began again, and the stealthy steps returned. Peer- 
ing through the bars into the deep black shadow under 
the wall, Nanny saw the figure of Ralph Ryder among 
the brushwood, saw the gleam of the wild eye intently 
watching her. 

‘ ‘ Oh, my husband ! come nearer, nearer ! I am not 
afraid of you, dear. Nothing in the world could 
make me afraid of you. Why didn’t you trust me, 
Dan, your own wife .? I would nurse you and care 
for you better than these creatures could ever do. 
Come near me, dear. ” 

She thrust her hand through the bars of the gate 
towards him. He seemed touched by her appeal, and 
he moved a step nearer. But suddenly stopping 
short, when almost close enough to the bars for her to 
touch him, he uttered a groan, and, turning sharply, 


2o8 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


disappeared from her sight among the evergreens in 
the opposite direction. 

Nanny could not go away without more satisfaction 
than this. She ran under the wall to the gate habitu- 
ally used, and rang the bell. She would see this Mrs. 
Durrant again, and insist on a proper interview with 
her husband. She felt that if she could only sit by 
his side, and take his hands in hers, and look with her 
own tender, loving eyes into his poor stricken ones, 
that her affection would be able to break down the 
barrier his malady had raised between them, and he 
would spare her and himself at least this last most 
bitter pang of estrangement. What, after all, could 
this boasted care and watchfulness of Mrs. Durrant s, 
be worth, when she let him roam about the grounds 
alone so late at night } 

Nanny suddenly asked herself whether Mrs. Durrant 
and her brother even knew of the patient’s return. 
Supposing, as she now could not but do, that not 
only the yachting expedition, but the visit to Durham, 
were a mere blind, Dan, feeling that his malady was 
returning upon him, must have returned almost as 
soon as he had written the letter warning her not to 
expect to hear from him. Perhaps he had only just 
arrived, and, obtaining an entrance with a private 
key, had shut himself into the grounds without having 
yet shown himself to anybody. 

Nanny waited a long time before her ring brought 
anybody to the gate. When at last rapid steps were 
heard coming along the narrow path between the 
bushes, they proved to be those of Mrs. Durrant’s 
pretty maid, the same girl whose recognition of her 
husband she had noticed on the previous day. She 
unlocked the gate quickly, but uttered a cry on recog- 
nising the visitor. 

Nanny took advantage of the maid’s evident sur- 
prise and consternation to put a remark to her 
abruptly, before she had time to consider what she 
ought to say. 

“ Captain Ryder is here ! ” she exclaimed decisively. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


20g 

Even with the evidence of her own senses to con- 
firm this fact, the acquiescence of the servant gave the 
poor young wife a fresh shock. 

“Yes, ma’am, he is here.” Then, perceiving by 
the lady’s involuntary start what she had done, she 
tried clumsily to retract. ‘ ‘ Oh, I mean — at least ” 

But Nanny interrupted her impatiently : 

“ Captain Ryder is here, you say, walking about 
these grounds.” 

The girl drew a long breath, and threw a hasty 
glance back over her shoulder. In a whisper she 
answered : 

“ Ye — es, ma’am.” 

“ You — you are afraid of him ? ” 

‘ ‘ No — o. At least, I shouldn’t be if Pickering was 
here. I was hoping it was Pickering when I came 
to the gate. Pickering can manage him when he has 
his fits on better than anybody, better even than Mrs. 
Durrant. ” 

‘ ‘ Where has Pickering gone to, then ? ” 

“ To see Lady Ellen, I expect, ma’am.” 

“Lady Ellen!” 

The servant saw directly, by the visitor’s excite- 
ment, that she had said too much. She tried to close 
the gate. 

“There! Oh, dear, I thought you knew. You 
did speak as if you knew. Now I shall get into 
trouble. Oh, do go, ma’am, and don’t say how I 
told you anything. And I didn’t, indeed. ” 

“ No, but I want you to tell me something,” said 
Nanny very quietly, taking care to stand within the 
gate. “ I won’t get you into trouble. I promise. 
But I want to see Captain Ryder, my husband. You 
must let me come inside.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, no, ma’am. Indeed I couldn’t. ” 

But Nanny had settled that question by springing 
suddenly well within the gate. The servant was 
going to scream, but the lady stopped her. 

“ What is the good of calling out now ? ” she said. 
“You would only get scolded for letting mein. But 

14 


210 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


if you go quietly back to the house it won^t matter 
to you even if 1 am seen. For there are other gates 
to the grounds, and it will be taken for granted I got 
in by one of them. ’ 

Almost sobbing, the girl let herself be persuaded, 
and relocked the gate. 

“ And now only tell me,” said Nanny, turning to 
her again, “ which room does Captain Ryder sleep 
in .? ” 

“ I don’t know which one he is going to use this 
time,” answered the girl sullenly. “ He’s only just 
come back to the house. ” 

“ But which one did he use before .? ” 

“ The back ground-floor room in the left wing.” 

Nanny remembered the barel 3 '-furnished apartment 
into which she had peeped on the occasion of her 
former visit to The White House. She was making 
her way without further remark towards the open 
back door of the house, through which she thought 
she would slip in quietly, and secreting herself in her 
husband’s apartment, wait for his return to it. But 
she heard the servant running after her, and then she 
felt the girl’s hands seizing her cloak. 

“No, no, no, you mustn’t go in! Look here, 
ma’am. I’ll tell you something if only you’ll be reason- 
able and go away. Mrs. Durrant is rather — well, 
rather excited herself to-night, and I wouldn’t go in 
if I was you. And she’s been saying the most awful 
things about you, and how she meant to give you 
such a fright as you never had in your life before. 
And if you was to go in now, and she was to see 
you, and all that lot of wine and spirits about, as 
she’s been going backwards and forwards to all the 
evening ” 

Nanny cut her short, saying very sharply : 

“ Wine 1 spirits ! Not where Captain Ryder ” 

She stopped. But the girl guessed her thought, 
and replied to it. 

“ I’m sure I hope not, ma’am. For last time when 
he was bad he got hold of just a glass or two of wine, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


211 


and it made him that wild I declare we all thought 
he was going to murder us. And so he would, I be- 
lieve, if Mr. Valentine and Pickering hadn’t stopped 
him, and pushed him into his room and locked him 
up in it. But now Pickering’s away I’m sure I do 
hope Mrs. Durrant will be careful.” 

Her words only encouraged Nanny in the course 
upon which she had decided. It was plain that Cap- 
tain Ryder, in his helpless state, had fallen into bad 
hands, and that at all risks she must do something to 
protect him against both himself and his* so-called 
guardians. As the servant still clung to her cloak, 
therefore, and paid no attention to either her pleadings 
or her protests, Nanny quickly unfastened the clasp 
of her mantle, and leaving that garment in the girl’s 
hands, dashed through the open back door into the 
house. 

She found herself, of course, in the servants’ quarters, 
but they were deserted, the establishment kept up 
by Mr. Valentine Eley in the absence of his sister 
being apparently of that modest kind which depends 
on outside labour. Nanny ran, hither and thither 
through kitchens and passages until she lighted upon 
the way to the great hall. This was sufficiently 
illuminated for her to have no difficulty in finding 
the door of that back room which the servant had 
indicated as Captain Ryder’s. 

The door was ajar. Nanny, with a loudly-beating 
heart, pushed it open a few inches further. No one 
was in it, but it was clear that an occupant was ex- 
pected, for a floating wick burned in a little glass 
suspended by a chain from the ceiling. She noticed 
now, too, that iron bars had been placed before each 
of the windows. Having given the maid-servant the 
slip, Nanny thought she had better find some hiding- 
place in which she could secrete herself until her 
husband either came or was brought in. There was 
not much choice. The only possible place of con- 
cealment was the large wardrobe which stood against 
the wall nearly opposite the door. 


212 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


Nanny opened it, found one long compartment 
nearly empty, and at once took her place in it. 

Then the minutes seemed to drag on like hours. 
She almost thought it must be drawing towards 
morning, and that no one was going to use the room 
after all, when sounds of voices and of the slamming 
of a door on the floor above made her push open the 
wardrobe door further to listen. Mrs. Durrant and 
her brother were disputing, he protesting, she insist- 
ing on some course of conduct which he disapproved. 
Still talking loudly and angrily, they came down the 
stairs, and Nanny heard Valentine say : 

“ Do you know what you’re doing, you mad- 
woman .? Don’t you know that to give this man 
drink is like putting a match to a petroleum-store ? 
You’ll have him raving before morning if you do. 
And then whom do you injure ? The poor devil 
himself, perhaps, but much more likely ourselves. 
For he’ll do some mischief, and it will be found out, 
as sure as fate, who put him in the way of it. Now, 
be reasonable, there’s a 'good soul ! ” 

All the time brother and sister were evidently 
drawing nearer to the room where Nanny was in 
hiding. Mrs. Durrant interrupted her brother occa- 
sionally by ejaculatory remarks, but for the most 
part she only kept up a running accompaniment of 
malicious and derisive laughter. 

“ Poor fellow ! ” she said at last in a mocking tone. 
“Why should he be deprived of all the pleasures of 
life, while others get more than their share } And if 
he does get a little excited, and give some of the 
good people at The Grange a fright. I’m sure I shan't 
blame him. So you please leave me alone. I know 
what I’m doing, and I will undertake that we shall 
come to no harm through my diversion. So now go 
to bed like a good boy, and mind your own business.” 

She spoke so sharply at last that her brother seemed 
to leave off attempting to dissuade her from her 
wicked project. 

“I shall fasten the case up, then,” said he sullenly. 


Ralph ryder of brent. 


213 

“if he gets at that we shall have the house set on 
fire, or something. ” 

“Not a bit of it,” she answered lightly. “If he 
breaks out, it will be straight for The Grange, he will 
go after his wife. However, you can do as you like 
about that.” 

She burst open the door of the room where Nanny 
was hiding, put something down on the table, still 
laughing maliciously to herself, and went out again. 
Valentine Eley was vigorously using a hammer in 
the hall. There was a little more wrangling discus- 
sion between them, and then both went upstairs 
again. 

Nanny came out of her hiding-place, and looked 
to see what Mrs. Durrant had brought. On the table 
she found a spirit-decanter containing whisky, and 
a glass. She at once opened one of the windows, 
emptied the whisky over the tangled flower-border 
outside, and carried the decanter out of the room. 
In the hall she saw the case of whisky which Valen- 
tine had fastened up. It was standing away from 
the wall, where nobody who entered the hall could 
fail at once to catch sight of it. After a moment’s 
hesitation Nanny determined to try to move it, to 
place it somewhere where her husband, on coming 
towards his room, should not be able to see it. It 
was an unpleasant thing to do, to wander secretly 
about another person’s house and move about things 
which did not belong to one ; but Nanny felt that her 
husband’s safety, perhaps his life, was concerned, 
and, after all, The White House was only lent to 
these people in return for their proper guardianship 
of Captain Ryder. So she put the decanter down on 
the hall table, and began to push the case towards 
the furthest corner of the hall. 

While she was thus engaged she heard sounds 
overhead, and before she had finished her task Mrs. 
Durrant’s voice called to her from the top of the stair- 
case. 

‘ ‘ If you please, Mrs. Ryder, may I learn to what 


214 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, | 

'fortunate circumstance I am indebted for the honour j 
of this visit ? And you might let me know, at the | 
same time, if there is anything else in my brother s j 
house which you would like to have moved ? ” ■ 

Nanny came to the foot of the staircase and looked I 
up. Mrs. Durrant was not intoxicated, but on the | 
other hand she was certainly excited, and a little ; 
harder of manner and more reckless of speech than 
usual. I 

“I must apologize for what I have done,’' said ! 
Nanny, in a voice that was unsteady in spite of all j 
hereferts; “I wanted to see my husband, and I | 
was afraid you might not like to let me see him. So i 
I got in like a — a burglar, without asking. But I J 
only want to see him, indeed, and, if you will only ] 
let me, I shall be quite satisfied.” ^ 

“And what are you doing with that case, may I 
ask.?” 

Nanny hesitated. Surely the woman, who was 
not, she thought, altogether without feeling, would 
soften if she pleaded to her. 

“I — 1 was afraid,” she said. “I wanted to put it 
out of the way — where he could not see it.” 

“And don’t you think it is taking a good deal upon 
yourself to move about other people’s property ? ” 

“ Oh, don’t be so hard ! You know why I did it. 

It was for my husband’s sake. Can’t you understand 
how I feel for my own husband ? ” 

“I don’t know anything about your husband, I’m 
sure ; nor why you should think he must be so 
anxious to tamper with other people’s property.” 

“ Sh ! ” whispered Nanny. “ He is coming ! ” 

She had heard a step in the gallery which led from 
the hall, through the left wing of the house, to the 
garden. The, next moment Captain Ryder, putting 
his hand before his eyes as if dazzled by the change 
from the darkness outside to the lamplight, stumbled 
past her. 

Nanny wanted to put out her arms to him, to raise 
the head bent with grief, to tell him to take comfort, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


215 

for she would nurse him back to health and reason. 
But a strange reticence had seized her. In the 
presence of that coarse, vindictive woman she could 
not make one step. She felt, too, now for the first 
time, a chill doubt whether even her love would avail 
to break down the barrier which his malady had 
raised between herself and him. 

This man, who slunk past her with head hung 
down and shuffling steps, scarcely seemed the same 
Dan who had held her in his arms and looked with 
wistful, tender, yearning love into her face only the 
previous morning. Nanny felt that she had said 
good-bye, for the time at least, to the Dan whose love 
had made her happiness ; but to the restless, unhappy 
creature before her must be paid the debt of gratitude 
she owed for the sunshine of her early married days. 

When he reached the middle of the hall, he stopped, 
looked up at the lamp, and passed his hand through 
his curly gray hair as Nanny had often seen him do. 
Should she go to hirn now .? The poor child was so 
much afraid of being repulsed in the. sight of Mrs. 
Durrant;. if they had been unwatched, she would 
have flown to his side, encouraged by the familiar 
action. But now she hesitated. Suddenly he moved 
forward with quicker steps. Nanny watched him, 
trembling and heart-sick. He had caught sight of the 
case of spirits which she had not had time to push 
quite into the corner she had destined for it. 

In a moment Ralph Ryder had seized the case, 
examined it, turned it up on end, and was trying 
with his fingers to force the rough planks apart. He 
dragged at the wood until he tore the flesh off his 
hands ; he raised the case and knocked it against the 
wall in a furious attempt to loosen the well-driven nails. 
Finally he dashed it down on the ground, evidently 
in the hope that the bottles would break, and that 
some of the precious liquid would run out, to be 
scooped up as well as might be. But it was too well 
packed ; his efforts were all in vain. He looked 
around him, either not seeing or not caring that Nanny 


2i6 RALPH RYDER of brent. 

stood, with tightly-clasped hands, at the bottom of 
the staircase. Fortunately, Valentine Eley had taken 
the precaution to take the hammer away with him 
when he fastened up the case. 

But the fact scarcely brought relief to Nanny. She 
saw in the glowing gray eyes an expression of reso- 
lution which she knew in Dan ; and she knew that, 
mad as he might be, he would not rest until he had 
attained his object. 

A low cry escaped her lips. Even the callous Mrs. 
Durrant was moved, or interested, or alarmed. 

“ Ralph, Ralph ! ” she suddenly called to him, with 
a sharpness which commanded attention, “put that 
case down, there’s a good fellow — put it down, I 
say ! ” 

But he only glanced up, paying no heed. Then 
Nanny summoned her failing courage, ran across the 
hall to him, and put her hand upon his arm. He 
staggered back, looked at her, and, with a sudden, 
not loud, but most piercing cry, turned and fled out 
of the hall into the grounds. 

trembling like a leaf, Nanny followed. Not 
knowing her way, she stumbled blindly along, and, 
more by chance than by judgment, she at last found 
herself out in the grounds, with the night-air blowing 
coldly upon her. 

Where was he going.? “To the Grange.? She 
hoped, and yet feared, that it might be so : hoped, 
because she still clung to the belief that love might 
do more than medicine ; feared, because in that one 
moment when her eyes had met his, she had seen 
with frightful clearness what a change in him his 
malady had already wrought. 

At first, coming from light to darkness, she could 
see nothing ; she dashed her face against the sharp 
little leaves of a yew-tree, and tore her dress in a 
tangle of thistle and bramble, before her feet sank in 
the long, soft damp grass of an overgrown lawn. 
Then she had to stop, for she had lost sight of the 
object of her pursuit, and she could hear nothing but 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


217 


the tree-tops rustling in the night-wind, and the faint 
sound of Mrs. Durrant's discordant laughter in the 
house behind her. Nanny felt so desolate, so fright- 
ened on finding herself thus alone in this wilderness, 
out of which she knew no way of escape, that her 
heart failed her, and she burst into childish tears. A 
full sense of her calamity seemed to fall upon her for 
the first time ; she was a widow in the first days of 
marriage, with an awful secret in her heart at which 
she scarcely dared to look. Her sobs, however, did 
reach a not unpitying ear. She was still close under 
the wall of the house. Raising the window of one 
of the kitchen offices ever so softly and ever so little, 
the maid-servant who had let Nanny in hissed out, 
in a loud whisper : 

“ Don’t take on so, ma’am. If you’re looking for 
the Captain, I saw him go by, and I think he’s gone 
off to Pickering’s cottage, just inside the grounds, 
away to the left. Right through the trees and every- 
thing you must go until you come to it.” 

“Thank you — oh, thank you!” cried Nanny, as 
she dashed off in the direction indicated by the girl. 

Difficult enough it was in the darkness to stumble 
through the jungle-like growth of grass and thistle, 
shrub and tree. She shivered, more with fright than 
cold, as a gust of wind would come and bring down 
upon her head and shoulders a shower of dried leaves. 
At last she came upon the cottage, a good-sized one, 
entirely hidden from the outside world by trees, and 
by the high wall which enclosed the grounds. A 
flickering light, which fell from two of the ground- 
floor windows on the foliage outside, showed Nanny 
that in all probability the girl had directed her rightly. 
Since Pickering was away, this illumination was 
probably the work of Captain Ryder. She stole 
round the cottage and looked in through the first 
window which had a light in it. She saw a tiny 
room, containing a chair-bedstead not in use, and a 
few simple articles of furniture. There was a lighted 
candle on the mantelpiece, but no one was in the room. 


2i8 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


From the adjoining apartment, however, there came 
a loud noise, like the dragging about of a heavy box. 
Nanny looked in through the next window. 

The second room was a small kitchen, and in it 
Nanny saw Captain Ryder, dragging a box along the 
floor. With a key taken from the dresser, he un- 
locked this box, which proved to be a tool-chest, took 
from it a heavy wooden mallet and a small hatchet, 
and slammed the lid down with an exclamation of 
triumph. Then, with the rapidity of a fixed resolu- 
tion, he kicked away from him the tool-chest, over- 
throwing the lighted candles in his haste, and quitting 
the cottage by a door on the other side, dashed past 
Nanny on his way back to the house. 

She leaned back against the cottage wall, for the 
moment too sick with fear to move away. She knew 
the purpose for which he had got those tools ; she 
knew that he meant to prise open the case of spirits. 
But that was only the beginning of what she feared. 
A madman, brooding over his misfortunes, excited 
by strong drink, with those tools in his possession ! 
What would it mean .? what would it mean .? 

And a hideous whisper came to answer her : It 
would mean again what it had meant before, when 
the drink-frenzy had seized him and urged him to a 
crime which he had only been able to wipe out by a 
supposititious death. It would mean again as it had 
meant before — murder ! 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


219 


CHAPTER XVII. 

As Nanny leaned against the wall of Pickering’s 
cottage, with her heart full of the most terrible fears, 
listening to the rustle of the dried leaves on the 
ground as the unhappy maniac made his way through 
them towards the house, she was startled by a sudden 
flash of light on to the trees opposite the cottage 
windows. She looked into the kitchen, whence the 
light seemed to come, and saw that the place was on 
fire. Ralph Ryder had overturned the candle with- 
out extinguishing it, and the flame had caught an 
old newspaper which had been lying on the floor, 
and had spread thence to the nearest leg of the table, 
round which smoke and flame were now playing. 

Nanny found the door and hurried in. Already the 
atmosphere was thick and stifling. She had passed 
a pump outside the cottage, and luckily a pail was at 
hand ; so with some difficulty and much exertion she 
succeeded in putting out the fire, not, however, be- 
fore she had drenched both the floor and her own 
clothes with water. This work had for a time chased 
away even the terrors which had possessed her. It 
left her so much exhausted from fright,' as well as 
unusual exertion, that she was glad to sit down, still 
coughing and panting in the smoke, on a chair in the 
flooded kitchen. The only discoverable box of 
matches had been burnt in the conflagration, so that 
all the light she had came from the candle in the ad- 
joining room. But from the manner in which it 
flickered and jumped, Nanny perceived that its end 
was near, and that she would soon be altogether in 
darkness. 


220 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


Just as the candle spluttered and went out, a man’s 
footsteps sounded on the stones outside, and the 
next moment Nanny heard Pickering’s rough voice, 
crying angrily : 

“ Hallo ! what’s up ? Who’s there? ” 

‘Ht is I, Pickering — Mrs. Ryder,” Nanny tried to 
say ; but her voice was still hoarse from the smoke, 
and she only succeeded in uttering a wheezy husky 
whisper, at the meaning of which the gardener had 
evidently to guess. 

“My lady! Here! Is it my lady?” cried the 
man in astonishment. But he took it for granted 
that it was, for he went on ; “Well, and to think of 
my having gone all the way to-day for to see you, 
and then to think you was here all the time I And a 
bad job it is I had to tell you about, too. But what’s 
happened here ? It smells o’ burning, and — and the 
place is full of water I Dear me, it’s the Captain been 
up to his tricks again, I suppose.” 

“You would have been burned out, Pickering, if I 
hadn’t seen it through the window,” said Nanny, still 
hoarse and choking. ‘ ‘ What — what was it you had 
tell to me ? ” 

She felt that it was mean of her to take advantage 
of the mistake he had made, but this old matter of the 
identity of Lady Ellen was so vitally interesting to 
her that the hope of finding out something concern- 
ing her mysterious rival proved too strong for Nanny’s 
honesty. 

‘ ‘ I went to tell you, my lady, as how Mrs. Dur- 
rant had come back, and that there was mischief 
brewing. And as how she’d got the Captain back to 
the house again, with one of his fits threatening, and 
as how she drinks more than she ought, and if the 
Captain gets hold of the stuff when he’s in one of his 
tantrums, even she won’t be able to manage him.” 

Nanny uttered an exclamation of horror. Pickering 
went on : 

“ And I was going to make bold to say to you, my 
lady, as how, no offence to you, somebody at The 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


221 


Grange ought to be told how the land lay. The little 
lady there will get such a fright some of these days 
as’ll do her no good. Now, if so be ” 

He stopped, startled. Nanny had sprung up, with 
her fears full upon her at this suggestion ; and even 
in the darkness the old gardener perceived, as he 
hunted about the room for his matches, that he had 
made a mistake. 

“ Bless my soul ! ” he muttered to himself, “if I 
haven’t been and made a thundering ass of my- 
self ” 

Without another audible word he went on groping 
about, until presently he produced from a cupboard 
a candle and matches, struck a light, and came face 
to face with young Mrs. Ryder. 

“ I thought so,” said he, shaking his head ; “but it 
was an unkind trick to play an old man, ma’am.” 

“No,” said Nanny, whose white face confirmed the 
truth of the words he had uttered concerning her, “ I 
did tell you who I was, and it was not my fault that 
I was too hoarse for you to understand me. And I 
cannot be blamed for using any means to find out 
■ what you yourself confess I ought to be told. Now, 
who is Lady Ellen ? And where does she live ^ ” 

Pickering shook his head again. 

“Eve served the family forty years, ma’am,” he 
said respectfully but firmly, “and I’ve taken Lady 
Ellen’s part through thick and thin for thirty of them. 
And 1 can’t play turncoat now. I wish she’d be 
open with you ; I do indeed, ma’am. But it’s not for 
me to speak when she keeps her mouth shut.” 

“ Will you tell me just this : when you went to see 
her to-day, they told you she was not at home ? ” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“ Now, where did they say she had gone.? ” 

Pickering hesitated. 

“ r don’t know, ma’am, as I ought to tell you even 
that. ” 

Nanny stepped forward to one side of the burnt and 
blackened table, as the old man stood on the other, 


222 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


Leaning upon it, she gazed across at him with a look 
in her large gray eyes which no man could have 
, resisted. 

“ I have no friend in the world to tell me anything,’' 
she said. “ I am left to struggle with the most 
frightful trouble all alone. Can you deny that .? Can 
you refuse to tell me just that little thing.? ” 

Pickering was not demonstrative. He gave one 
shy side-glance at her unhappy face, and promptly 
turned away from her. 

“She’s gone to Edinburgh,” he said shortly. 

“Edinburgh ! ” echoed Nanny in great excit^ent. 

For was not Meg there, who might be set to play 
detective. 

“So they said. I can’t answer for it that it’s 
true.” 

“No, of course not,” agreed Nanny, suddenly 
moderating her transports in fear lest he should grow 
too cautious again. “And do you know to what 
part of Edinburgh .? ” 

“No, ma’am.” 

“Nor the name of the people to whom she was 
going .? ” 

Pickering moved from one foot to another uneasily, 
still with no more than a side view of his face pre- 
sented to the lady. But all at once he seemed to 
make up his mind, and, turning swiftly round to face 
her, though he judiciously kept his eyes from encoun- 
tering the plaintive look on her face, and fixed them 
instead on the dresser behind her, he brought his 
hand down on the table with a force which cracked 
and splintered the burnt leg : 

“Now look ’e here, ma’am. I’m not going to 
answer one more question after this, and I don’t 
know as I’m doing right to answ'er this one. But I 
will. And if, like a many of you ladies, you are 
clever enough to find out more from a nod than 
plenty men would from a day of talk, why, that’s 
not my fault. They told me as Lady Ellen had gone 
to Edinburgh to see a Miss Anstruther, but I don’t 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 223 

know whether her ladyship goes by her own name up 
there. ’’ 

Nanny remembered the name of Miss Anstruther 
as that of the lady who had given Meg only too 
accurate information about the secret of the Ryders. 
She must, then, have returned from her Australian 
voyage. Here was a clue at last by which to dis- 
cover the mysterious Lady Ellen. If Meg could 
find out the lady who was staying with Miss An- 
struther and give a description of her, Nanny felt that 
she would be able to find Lady Ellen out on her return 
to the South, under whatever name she chose to 
pass. She stood speechless with excitement at the 
thought. 

Pickering glanced at her with pity in his eyes. 
He was curious to know how much she had gleaned 
of the family secret, and he was exceedingly anxious, 
on the other hand, to have her safely out of the domain 
of The White House. 

“May I make so bold as ask how you got in, 
ma’am ? ” he asked at last. 

‘ ‘ The servant this Mrs. Durrant brought with her 
from Teddington let me in. It was not the girl’s 
fault,” Nanny hastened to add, as she saw the old 
gardener frown ; “ she thought it was you. She 
wanted you because — because he — Captain Ryder — 
was at the house, and there was a great case ofspirits 
about. He came here just now and opened your 
tool-chest and ” 

“ The Captain it was who opened it ! ” cried Picker- 
ing in alarm. “I must be off to the house, ma’am, 
begging your pardon,” he went on, as a rapid inspec- 
tion of the chest told him that it had been rifled. 

“ He’s not to *be trusted with such tools as he’s 
taken when there are spirits about, and one of his fits 
coming on him.” 

Nanny trembled at this confirmation of her fears. 

‘ ‘ Oh, Pickering, you don’t think ” she began, 

and stopped. 

“You must let me put you safely outside first. 


224 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


ma’am,” he said, signing to her respectfully, but per- 
emptorily, to precede him out of the cottage. 

But Nanny lingered one moment, and shook her 
head. 

“ No,” she whispered hoarsely, ‘‘I am going up to 
the house with you. 1 must see him again. I don’t 
feel afraid of him even now. I believe that, if I can 
only speak with him alone for a few moments — not 
before that woman, but alone — I could quiet him 
better than she, or than you, or anybody. ” 

Pickering shook his head with apparent surprise 
at her boldness. She had left the cottage, and was 
making her way, he following, through the wilder- 
ness of shrub-growth towards the house. 

“ No,” he said. “ What could you do, ma’am ? It 
takes a lifetime o’ knowledge of mad lolks and their 
ways to do any good with ’em.” 

“ Not if you love them, not if you love them,” she 
answered earnestly. ‘^Ifhe were just a stranger, I 
am sure I should feel dreadfully frightened, and I 
should enrage him the more by showing it. But as 
it is, knowing all the while that he is my own hus- 
band and that he loves me, I only feel as I did when 
he was ill and didn’t know me. And if he were ever 
so violent, I should feel certain he would not hurt me.” 

Pickering listened to this speech in great perplexity. 
For a few moments he followed her silently. A light 
rain was pattering through the half-bare trees on to their 
faces, and behind the great square house flimsy little 
clouds could be seen driving swiftly across the face of 
the moon. A light was being carried about back- 
wards and forwards, apparently from one room to 
another, on the first-floor, and a second light could be 
seen travelling upwards through the staircase win- 
dow. 

“ That's Mrs. Durrant’s servant going upstairs to 
bed,” said Pickering, clearly glad to change the sub- 
ject. “But the second light — I don’t know what that 
is, unless it’s Mrs. Durrant and her brother quarrelling 
again. ” 


JRALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


225 

He quickened his steps, being evidently anxious. 
He tried as he went to dissuade the lady from enter- 
ing the house again, but, failing in that attempt, he 
was silent with an obstinate silence which Nanny did 
right in not mistaking for acquiescence. For, on 
arriving at the back door of the house, and finding it 
locked, he said quietly : 

“You see, ma’am, we can’t either of us get in to- 
night, however much we might want to. We’re 
locked out. ” 

“No, we’re not,” said Nanny quietly. “ I heard 
that wicked woman say that he would make straight 
for The Grange and frighten me, so it is certain she 
will have left open some way for him to come by.” 

Pickering was shocked. 

“ Did she say that .? ” he said incredulously. “ You 
must have mistaken her meaning, ma’am. I’m think- 
ing. It’s not natural for one woman to talk so of 
another, barring she’s suffered great wrong.” 

“ Let us look about,” Nanny went on, “and we 
shall find a way of getting in. ” 

She was curious, but no longer so anxious, as to 
what was taking place inside the house. Pickering’s 
presence had done much to reassure her. For, on 
reflection, it seemed pretty certain that Valentine Eley 
would have taken advantage of Captain Ryder’s ex- 
pedition to the cottage to hide the case of spirits, and 
having done so, he would be discreet enough to take 
himself out of the way of the maniac’s revenge. 

Pickering, evidently alarmed by young Mrs. Ryder’s 
revelations, left her with an exclamation of dismay to 
try another side-door from the garden into the house. 
Nanny, thus left for a moment alone, went up the 
steps to the raised veranda which ran from end to end 
at the back of the building. She had to tear her way 
through a tangle of wistaria, clematis and Virginia 
creeper, the luxuriant growth of which, unchecked by 
any sort of care, almost blocked one end of the 
veranda. Forcing her way through, Nanny discov- 
ered that one of the long French windows, of which 

15 


226 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

there were several on this side of the house, was op^n, 
confirming her fears. She slipped inside, and found 
that she was in a small room, opening on the other 
side into the hall, and close to the door of Captain 
Ryder s apartment. 

Overhead she heard sounds of rapid footsteps, 
and of voices in loud discussion. Only Mrs. Durrant’s 
tones could be distinguished, as they rose from time 
to time to a pitch at which they almost became 
screams. It was clear that, as Pickering had sur- 
mised, a quarrel was taking place. Mrs. Durrant 
was apparently continuing with her brother the 
angry discussion about Captain Ryder the beginning 
of which Nanny had overheard. But surely they 
were growing very violent ! She listened to the 
noise of footsteps going hither and thither until it 
seemed to her that there must be a chase going on. 
She wished Pickering had come in with her. Run- 
ning to the window, she called to him ; but he was 
out of hearing, and she got no answer. 

In the meantime, the noise above was increasing 
so greatly as to cause Nanny considerable alarm. 
It seemed to her that some sort of scuffle must be 
taking place almost immediately over her head ; and 
she came to the conclusion that Valentine, finding 
persuasion of no avail against his sisters obstinate 
intentions of mischief, was constrained to use physical 
force in order to restrain her. At that moment the 
noise of some heavy piece of furniture being thrown 
to the ground startled her greatly, especially as it 
was accompanied by a sound like a woman’s cry. 

Nanny rushed out into the hall, and was making 
for the staircase, when her attention was arrested by 
the figure of a man standing in the shadow of the 
drawing-room door, which was half open. 

“ Dan ! ” she cried at once. And, believing the 
man to be her husband, she follow'ed him as he at 
once softly disappeared into the room. “ Dan ! dear 
Dan ! ” she repeated, as she groped in the darkness, 
half afraid of her own venturesomeness, but deter- 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


227 

mined to profit by this chance of an interview alone 
with him. Had not Mrs. Durrant herself said that 
the poor fellow, in his frenzy, would “go straight to 
The Grange after his wife ?” What, then, had she to 
fear, in the face of this proof that, even in his mad- 
ness, he thought first of her? The noise upstairs, 
moving now away, as if the scuffle had again given 
place to a chase, continued and grew, if anything, 
louder than before. Nanny was impressed by the 
necessity of coming to terms with her husband be- 
fore the quarrel upstairs should end, and one or both 
of the disputants break in upon their privacy. Again, 
as she pursued him through the bare and silent 
rooms, he eluded her, creeping round by the walls, 
so that sometimes she could only track him by the 
creak of a board, or by the sound of his foot brush- 
ing against the strips of damp paper that hung down 
over the wainscoting. 

It cannot be said that the unhappy young wife felt 
no pangs of nervous fear as she continued to call her 
husband’s pet name in vain, and to pursue from end 
to end of the long suite of rooms the stealthy figure. 
Was he, in his madness, luring her as far as possible 
out of the reach of human help, only to turn upon 
her in an access of senseless fury, as he had done 
upon his own child ? She remembered the mallet he 
had taken from the chest : one blow with it might 
easily be fatal. The thought was such a horrible 
one that poor Nanny stopped for an instant, with the 
blood running cold in her veins. The next moment 
she had recovered herself, and was again pursuing 
him. If, indeed, his poor mad brain should prompt 
him to this, would not death at his hands be better 
than the fate which was now before her, the life of 
the living tied to the dead ? 

In that one moment’s pause she had missed him 
again, and she presently found that he had doubled, 
passing her in the darkness, and was making for the 
door by which they had both entered. 

He would escape her again. 


228 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


‘‘Dan, my husband, stay one moment, and listen 
to me ! ” she cried again in her tenderest tone. 

And, springing forward in her eagerness to detain 
him, she did indeed touch the man’s hand, only, 
however, to withdraw her own with a cry. For the 
fingers she had touched were wet, and a subtle, un- 
accountable instinct told her that it was with blood. 

They were both near the door. Nanny ran out 
into the hall, where there was light. Her instinct 
had been a right one : there was a horrible stain on 
her hand. 

While she still stared at it in mute horror, the steps 
of the man she had pursued sounded softly behind 
her. 

It was Valentine Eley. His collar was gone, his 
coat was torn, and the hand she had touched was cut 
and bleeding. His face was ghastly, and his voice 
hoarse as he answered her. 

“Not Captain Ryder !” she hissed out. “Then 
where is he t ” 

“ With my sister — upstairs.” 

“ What cried Nanny, drawing a long breath of 
terror. ‘ ‘ My husband — upstairs — with your sister ! 
Then he is killing her ! ” 

And turning towards the staircase, with a few swift 
steps she had almost reached it, when Valentine’s 
hands, seizing her arm with a firm grasp, from which 
the comparatively feeble woman could not escape, 
held her back. 

‘ ‘ Don’t go, don’t go ! ” he cried. ‘ ‘ What is the use I 
She can manage him if any one can. It is death for 
anybody else to go near him.” 

“But they have been struggling. I have heard 
them. It may be life and death for her. I believe it 
fs,” quavered Nanny, still striving with all her might 
to mount the stairs. 

“Listen!” cried Valentine ; and his white face 
seemed to grow livid and gray as he spoke. “ Listen I 
He is like a wild beast to-night. It is her fault, and 
she must suffer for it. He cannot hurt her much ; 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


229 

she is strong, and she can seize moments to calm him. 
There was spirit brought into the house as you knov/. 
While he was gone just now — I didn’t know where to ; 
I thought to The Grange — I hid the case. But when 
he came back and did' not find it, he missed it. and 
was angry. He ran upstairs into the room Avhere I 
was sitting with my sister. And to pacify him, as 
she said, she let him taste the whisky. I told her she 
was mad, and she laughed at me. Of course he be- 
came excited; he wanted more ; he would have more; 
it intoxicated him at once, made him dangerous — 
murderous. I tried to seize the decanter, to take it 
away. The action enraged him. He had a mallet 
in his hands, brought, I think, to open the case with. 
He flew at me, seized me, struck at me ; you can see 
for yourself what he did to me before I managed to 
escape.” 

“Yes, but your sister ! H o w could you leave her ? 
She is not safe with him ! ” 

Valentine looked troubled, 

“ She said she was. She herself helped me to get 
out of the room, and locked the door.” 

“ But that has enraged him. I implore you, I en- 
treat you, come upstairs ! Call to Pickering. He is 
outside. We must break in and save her.” 

It was cowardice, personal cowardice, Nanny felt 
sure, which induced Valentine to believe, or to affect 
to believe, that their interference would make matters 
worse. As a matter of fact, she was wrong. Having 
an enormous trust in his sister’s power both of will 
and of management, the young man had, as usual, 
allowed himself to be a mere cipher in her hands ; and 
it required all Nanny’s entreaties and menaces to in- 
duce him to let her interfere. At last most reluctantly 
he let her go, and followed her upstairs. 

They had scarcely reached the landing, however, 
when sounds reached their ears which told both him 
and his companion that they had not come a moment 
too soon. 

Rapid footsteps, heavy breathing, followed by the 


230 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


throwing up of a window-sash, half stifled cries as of 
a person gagged and helpless, a savage growl like 
that of a wild animal, and then, shrill and clear, the 
woman's cry of : “ Help ! help ! It s murder ! " 

The madman and his victim were struggling in a 
death-grapple. Of this there could be no doubt. The 
door was locked. Nanny flung herself with all her 
force upon it, and dragging Valentine forward, made 
him do the same. It shook, it rattled, but it stood 
the strain. 

The frightened woman inside, hearing voices, and 
hoping that help was at hand, rushed to the door, 
only to be dragged back and flung on the floor. A 
hoarse, horrible laugh — a laugh so fiendish that Nanny 
never forgot it — broke from the madman’s lips. 

Nanny rushed to the staircase window, smashed a 
pane with her bare hand, and shrieked at the top of 
her voice : 

‘ ‘ Pickering ! Pickering ! ” 

A shout answered her. 

“ Quick ! quick ! ” she cried, in a voice of agony. 

But even as her cry rang out through the air, 
another and yet more piercing scream came from 
the locked-up room : the sound of a heavy blow, 
another struggle, a feeble cry, and a heavy, sliding 
fall. 

Then came dead silence. 


CHAPTER XVHL 

It seemed to Nanny and to Valentine Eley, as they 
stood outside the door of the room in which the death- 
struggle had taken place, that the few minutes which 
followed would never end. 

They could hear nothing more from within the room 
except the heavy breathing of the maniac, who was 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


231 

evidently standing near the door. Intently as they 
listened, there was not a sigh nor a breath from the 
unfortunate Mrs. Durrant. Valentine, with his ear to 
the keyhole and a face distorted with terror, whispered 
suddenly to his companion ; 

“ He has killed her ! He has murdered my sister ! ” 

“Oh, no, no! We must hope, we must hope,” 
returned she, in a voice so low, so broken, that it was 
scarcely audible. 

And, indeed, her own hope was so faint that it cost 
her a great effort to utter even these poor words of 
attempted comfort. There was in the present tran- 
quillity of the madman an only too eloquent suggestion 
that he had done his work. They heard Pickering 
hammering on the back door downstairs, and Nanny 
started up again and called to him through the win- 
dow she had broken, telling him to come in by the 
way she had come, through the open French window 
on the veranda. But he could not hear her, being 
deafened by the noise of his own efforts to break in 
the back door. Nanny turned to Valentine Eley. 

“ I must go downstairs,” she said, “and let him 
in.” 

The young man started violently. He was in a 
state of such terrible nervous excitement that the 
thought of being left alone at the door of this fatal 
room unmanned him completely. His teeth chat- 
tered and his breast heaved as he answered her. 

“No, no!” he quavered, shaking his head, while 
with his restless fingers he clutched at the edges of 
his torn coat. “ I — I will go down. I — I can’t — stay 
here. ” 

He tottered and staggered on his way to the head 
of the staircase like a drunken man, and had to seize 
the banisters for support as he made his way down. 
As Nanny watched him, she knew intuitively that he 
would not return. Indeed, he buoyed himself up 
with no delusive hopes that his sister had escaped*; 
and, having unlocked the back door for Pickering, 
he remained shivering downstairs, waiting to learn, 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


232 

through some way less shocking than ocular demon- 
stration, the intelligence he dreaded. 

Meanwhile, Nanny remained by the door of the 
room in which were the madman and his victim. She 
could do nothing until help came, but she was fasci- 
nated with horror and unable to move away. As 
Valentine Eley s slow steps sounded fainter and fainter 
on his way downstairs, her ears, always on the alert 
for sounds from inside the room, caught a noise as 
of some weight being dragged along the floor, away 
from the door. 

But there were no more cries. 

Very slowly the burden was drawn along, with 
many short pauses. Then there was a different sound, 
a sort of low groan as of a man lifting a heavy weight, 
and Nanny, stiff with terror, heard a cracking and 
rustling in the garden below, followed by a very faint 
sound, such as she would have scarcely heard if she 
had not been listening for it. The burden which had 
been dragged across the floor of the room had been 
thrown out of the window, and its fall had been 
broken by shrubs and brushwood before it reached 
the ground. 

Then she started up, white and wet and trembling. 
She heard the sash go down softly, as if the perpetra- 
tor of this fearful crime had known its appalling nature, 
and wished to hide all traces of it. This idea, the 
most awful of all those which had crowded into the 
young wife’s mind throughout this fatal evening, found 
her scarcely capable of another shudder. What Ralph 
had done, if not the work of absolute frenzy, was 
crime so black, so horrible, that even pardoning love 
and pitying forbearance must turn to loathing at the 
thought of it. 

For Nanny was entirely ignorant of the psychol- 
ogy of madness, of the cunning which alternates 
with its frenzy, or of the changes by which the raving 
maniac becomes the crafty calculator. She knew, 
indeed, before this awful experience of the fact, that 
madness can lie dormant in the blood like a sleeping 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


233 

demon, break out into fury, and then go to rest again 
for awhile ; but of its moods and varieties she knew 
nothing. 

While she still stood, appalled, by the door, hearing 
no further sound from within the room, Pickering came 
up the stairs. He was alone, as she had expected. 
He held a lamp in one hand and a hatchet in the 
other. Now that he had come, and that she knew he 
was too late, for the first time there darted into her 
heart the wish to delay, if only for a few moments, 
the discovery that her husband was a murderer. And 
quickly on the heels of this wish there came the re- 
membrance that this was a vain one, for was not 
this his second crime Still, instinctively, she stood a 
foot or so from the door, with her back to it, and 
spoke to Pickering, not attempting to move out of his 
way. 

Perhaps the old gardener, who had grown, in the ser- 
vice of this ill-fated family, used to tragedies, guessed 
her thought and respected it. Perhaps he could read 
in her dry eyes, with their glazed, dead look, the last 
agony of her dying love for the husband whose very 
existence was now only a nameless horror. At any 
rate, instead of at once attacking the locked door, he 
stood before the young lady, shamefaced, irresolute, 
as if on the point of saying something to her to which 
his courage proved unequal. 

Seeing that he paused, Nanny spoke. It surprised 
her as much as it did Pickering to find that her voice 
was steady and sounded cold. She was discovering, 
indeed, as we all do at supreme moments, that her 
power of emotion was unequal to the demands made 
upon it, and that its very intensity for a short time 
had now left her, as it were, inert and lifeless. 

“You are going to break open the door,” she said, 
“ with that hatchet } ” 

“Yes, ma’am. It is my own. I found it at the 
bottom of the stairs. He must have taken it out of 
my tool-chest, and dropped it.” 

“ Oh — yes.” 


234 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


“I beg pardon, ma’am,” he said after an instant's 
pause, as he intimated his wish to pass her. 

Nanny stood out of the way. Pickering listened at 
the door for a few minutes, and then turned. 

“Wouldn’t you be better downstairs, ma’am.’ 
There’s no good of your going in here, and — and we 
don’t know how he’ll be.” 

But she shook her head. A distinctly feminine 
yearning, as of one mourning over a dead love, 
prompted her to wish to see this man, who had been 
all the world to her. Even now she had no personal 
fear of him. 

“He may be violent still. He seems to have 
pulled Mr. Eley about a good deal,” went on Picker- 
ing. ‘ ‘ The poor beggar couldn’t speak. ” 

A ray of a sort of sickly hope crossed Nanny’s mind. 
Valentine had said nothing about his sister to the old 
gardener. It was a little respite that he would not 
learn the fact of this second murder at once. 

Nanny stood back a little way, having refused to 
go downstairs, and watched Pickering as he used his 
hatchet on the door. Half a dozen blows, and the 
door yielded by the forcing of the lock. He signed 
to her to remain where she was, snatched up the 
lamp with his left hand, still holding the hatchet in 
his right, and entered the room with cautious steps. 

Nanny held her breath and watched him, her im- 
pulse to follow him at once having been checked by 
the manner in which he stopped short and looked 
down at something on the floor at his feet. She 
shuddered, for she knew what it was that had lain 
there, and what sort of stain it was on which his eyes 
rested. Then slowly, and moving a little to the left, 
as if to avoid the fatal spot, Pickering advanced into 
the room. She stepped forward hesitatingly as far as 
the door, and looked in. 

It was a large room, and had been formerly one of 
the best bedrooms of The White House. But IMrs. 
Durrant and her brother had turned it into a sort of 
study. It was plainly and barely furnished with little 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


235 

more than a couple of tables, a rough bookcase, a 
sofa and a few chairs ; and all these were in disorder, 
bearing witness to the struggle which had taken place 
there. Fragments of a broken decanter and glasses 
glittered on the floor in the lamplight ; one of the 
old-fashioned window-curtains, of many-times-cleaned 
chintz, had been torn down. The only article of 
furniture which was in its place seemed to be the 
sofa, which was at the far end of the room, in a 
corner against the wall. 

By this sofa Pickering stood still, with his lamp held 
low. He paused thus for so long that Nanny, gather- 
ing up her skirts and treading carefully and with fear, 
came into the room and stood first behind and then 
beside him. 

There on the sofa lay at full length Ralph Ryder, 
his handsome face flushed, his curly gray hair disor- 
dered, fast asleep, with the hands which had worked 
such murderous mischief only a few minutes ago 
lying, the one above his head, the other thrown across 
his breast. The sight was so unexpected to Nanny 
that, for one happy moment, all the horrible experiences 
of the last hour seemed to fade into unrealities, and 
she saw before her the adored and adoring husband of 
her first few weeks of marriage. She started forward, 
and was only prevented by ftckerings warning hand 
from throwing herself on her knees beside the sofa. 

“ Sh ! ” he whispered gently. “You mustn’t disturb 
him, ma’am. He’ll sleep on like that till morning, and 
then he’ll be better. I remember last time he broke 
out it was just the same.” 

Nanny shuddered and left the room. Pickering 
looked round. The lamp in his hand blinded him a 
little, so that he did not see what Nanny did— the 
dark stains of blood upon the window-sill, over which, 
as she knew, the dead body of the unfortunate Mrs. 
Durrant had been thrown out. He went quickly and 
lightly back to the door, and his next words showed 
how entirely ignorant he was of the tragedy which 
had taken place. 


236 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

“It wasn’t Mrs. D. and her brother, then, that we 
saw from the ground scuffling in here, ma’am. It 
must have been Mr. Eley and the Captain. And a nice 
mess the Captain must have made of the poor chap 
by what I see in here, enough to have settled him 
altogether ! ” and he jerked his head in the direction 
of the pool of blood on the floor. “No wonder he 
wasn’t in the talking mood when I met him ! I suppose 
by this he’ll have gone and told his sister.” 

Nanny said nothing. She could not be the first to 
tell what her husband had done. Pickering would 
find out to-morrow. Mrs. Durrant was dead, and past 
help. Even as these thoughts flashed through her 
mind, she heard a muffled cry from the grounds below, 
and, looking out, saw Valentine YAey bending over 
something which lay among the shrubs. Pickering 
had returned to the side of the sofa, for a last look at 
the sleeping man, so the brother’s cry on finding his 
sister’s body escaped him. 

The old gardener came out on to the landing, where 
he found Nanny still looking through the window. 

“You had best come back home, ma’am,” he said 
gently. “You can do no good here now, and you 
will be losing your own senses if you bide in this 
mouldy old place much longer.” 

But Nanny hesitated. How could the unhappy 
maniac be left alone in the house, one of his responsible 
guardians dead, and the other emphatically untrust- 
worthy ? 

“Will you stay here with him, then, Pickering.?” 
she said. 

“ I’ll come back and look after him, ma’am, as soon 
as I’ve seen you safe home.” 

“Oh, no, oh, no, never mind me. I can quite well 
get back by myself,” cried Nanny earnestly. “I 
want you to promise me, Pickering, that you will 
watch by him, and that you will not leave him until 
— until ” 

She stopped. There opened before her the vast 
expanse of careful devisings and arrangements which 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


237 

would be necessary now that his guardian was gone, 
and now that his malady had grown, by this second 
crime, more to be feared than ever. 

“ I’ll look after him, ma’am, be sure of that. But 
I don’t like you to go back alone. It’s lonesome-like 

so late, at the best of times, and now ” 

But Nanny longed for that walk, longed to be out 
of this haunted house, and in the cold night air again. 
Before the old gardener had finished speaking, she 
was half-way down the stairs. He followed her, how- 
ever, and, as he opened the front door to let her out, 
addressed her again in a troubled voice : 

‘ ‘ I shall make bold to come and see you to-morrow 
morning, ma’am,” he said, with his eyes on the ground. 
“You will want to know how the Captain is, and 
— and — I shall have something to tell you, ma’am, 
something that — that will relieve your mind a little, 
I make bold to think. ” 

Nanny dared not trust herself to answer. 'What 
could he tell her that would give her any comfort 
when she knew more than he .? By the morning she 
could not doubt that he would have discovered the 
murder of Mrs. Durrant, and then she must consult 
him as to what steps were to be taken. Must there be 
an inquest, a scandal, a trial, and must her unhappy 
husband be shut up for life as a criminal lunatic } 

As these horrible ideas passed through her mind 
she could not have spoken, however much she might 
have wished to do so. She bowed her head in assent 
to Pickering’s words, and hurried out of the house. 
He followed, and unlocked the little gate which was 
used instead of the big entrance to the drive. On 
the point of going out she stopped, and, recovering 
her voice with an effort, asked : 

“Are you sure, Pickering, that the other gates of 
the grounds are locked.? ” 

She remembered Mrs. Durrant’s words about the 
likelihood of Captain Ryder’s making straight for The 
Grange, and reflected that, as the unfortunate woman 
had left open a window of the house by which he 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


238 

could escape, so she had probably not forgotten to 
afford him a means of egress from the grounds. 

“Yes, ma’am, I think so,” said he. 

“Will you go round and see ” 

“Yes, ma’am, I will certainly, if it will make you 
feel easier-like. ” 

“Thank you, Pickering. You are very kind. 
Good-night. ” 

She hurried away down the broad white road, 
keeping well in the middle, with a lurking fear of the 
black shadows under the hedge on one side and the 
wall on the other. She was so glad of the wind and 
of the fine rain which it blew in her face as she 
walked. The cold and wet refreshed her burning 
cheeks, and even the rain-water which splashed up 
from the pools and puddles was welcome for the 
momentary distraction it afforded from her gloomy 
thoughts. She felt forlorn, desperate. What was 
she returning to } A house haunted by memories as 
horrible as those which now clung about the dreary 
mansion she had just left ! Her first impulse, now 
that the night-air had lifted a little the heavy paralysis 
which had deadened her while inside The White 
House, was to return at once to her friends in Edin- 
burgh. All her instincts of courage and loyalty, 
however, rose against this suggestion. Dan — poor, 
poor Dan ! had done her wrong in marrying her ; but 
she was his wife, and she would stand by her colours. 
Her interests lay now with the Ryders, and she 
must do what she could for them before she thought 
of herself — for the sake of Dan s kindness in those 
few short weeks of happiness. 

The housemaid, finding that her mistress had gone 
out, had sat up for her^ and the girl was alarmed by 
the ghastly pallor and altered expression of the lady’s 
face. 

“ Oh, ma'am, whatever has happened.? Has any- 
body frightened you .? You do look so white ! And 
your dress ! Oh, you’re all wet ! Did you have a 
fall, ma’am ? ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


239 

'^‘No, Emily/’ said her mistress, trying to smile 
reassuringly. “ Em all right. But it’s raining.” 

This was not a sufficient explanation of the state 
to which her efforts at putting out the fire at the 
cottage had reduced Nanny’s dress ; but there was 
something in her manner which stopped the servant’s 
further inquiries, if it did not extinguish her curiosity. 
She helped her mistress off with her cloak and hat, 
and then said : 

“One of the young ladies from Brent Lodge was 
round here this evening, ma am, with some flowers. 
I put them in the drawing-room, ma’am. ” 

Nanny went to the drawing-room, where the house- 
maid, casting inquisitive glances at her mistress, lit 
some candles and retired. On a table was a big 
rush-basket tied with a bow of broad ribbon, full of 
dainty orchids arranged to the best advantage by the 
clever fingers of the Bambridge girls. Attached to 
the basket was a tiny cocked-hat note in Laura’s 
handwriting. 

“ Dear Nanny (since you say we are to call you 
so), 

“We have had these sent to us, and as they are 
much too good for anybody but you, we humbly 
offer them, together with kind regards and love and 
compliments, in assorted parcels, which your dis- 
crimination will enable you to apportion to the right- 
ful senders. Only papa says the love is from him. 
With our condolences on your temporary widowhood 
(which we think the orchids will help you to bear 
with fortitude), 

“Yours affectionately, 

‘ ‘ Laura. ” 

Nanny burst into tears over this note, and sobbed 
long and violently, hugging the basket of flowers. 
She was touched to the quick by this graceful act of 
girlish attention and kindness, coming as it did at a 
moment when some relief to the tension of her feel- 


240 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


ings was almost necessary for her to retain control of 
her reason. 

When the outburst had subsided, she got up, feel- 
ing dizzy and sick, oppressed by a sudden sense of the 
horror which hung over the house. She was very 
tired, but she knew that sleep was for a long time 
out of the question. 

Glancing fearfully about her into the shadows of 
the corners of the long, low-ceilinged room, she took 
up the candles and carried them to her writing-table. 
Here she sat down and began a letter to Meg. It was 
not because she was so very anxious for her sister to 
find out Lady Ellen ; the events of the past few hours 
had dwarfed the importance of everything but the 
horrible crime committed almost before her eyes. But 
in her loneliness she felt that there would be consola- 
tion in the act of writing down words which would be 
read by loving eyes. She meant to betray nothing 
concerning her state of mind ; but in her misery the 
poor child betrayed more than she intended to do. 

“My dearest Meg” (she wrote), 

“I am afraid you will think I have been a long 
time answering your last dear letter, and you will 
think something dreadful must have happened to 
me. But I have had a great deal to do, visiting in 
my district, and preparing for a garden-party which 
we have promised to give to please the Bambridge 
girls, whom I have told you about. You need not 
be jealous of them. Laura is a dear girl, but she can 
never be my own Meg. Nobody ever could. There 
is no one else I long for so when I am lonely, or want 
to see so much when I am unhappy, or, rather, there 
wouldn’t be if I ever were unhappy. But this is a 
most beautiful place, you know, much handsomer and 
bigger than any house which I ever thought I should 
live in. But I have told you all that before, and I 
don’t know why 1 am saying it again, except to ‘ fill 
up,’ and to make you think you are getting a long 
letter when you are really only getting a short one 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


241 


spun out. I want to write to you to-night. I feel I 
must. And there is a thing you might do for me. 
You remember writing to tell me, just before I was 
married, about a Miss Anstruther who knew a certain 
Lady Ellen Ryder. Well, this Lady Ellen is a distant 
connection of my husband’s family, and she has gone 
to stay with Miss Anstruther, and I should like you to 
try and see her, and write to tell me what she is like. 

1 have heard some stories about her, and I feel curious 
to know what she looks like. This is not important, 
of course ; vulgar curiosity, you will say. But if you 
should come across her, do let me have one of your 
funny descriptions. With love to papa, and my best, 
best love to your dearest old self. 

“ Your ever loving sister, 

“Nanny.” 

She re-read this letter and sealed it up, without 
perceiving how eloquent it was in its bald childishness, 
and, above all, in its absence of any mention of her 
husband, of the constraint under which she had writ- 
ten it. Then, being by this time quite worn out, she 
crept mournfully upstairs to bed, hoping that she was 
too weary to keep awake. 

Of course she was disappointed. Restless and 
weary, she tossed from side to side, frightened by each 
one of the night-noises which, in an old house, and 
one, moreover, fenced in by trees, sound continuously 
through the quiet hours of darkness. 

Sometimes she fancied she heard footsteps on the 
gravel-walk in the garden below \ at other moments 
it seemed to her that thieves were trying to make an 
entrance by violence at the back of the house. 

So vivid did these impressions at last become, that 
she gave up all idea of sleep, and, springing out of bed, 
put on her dressing-gown and went, candle in hand, 
downstairs. . A sharp gust of wind, sweeping along the 
hall and passages, blew out the light she carried be- 
fore she reached the ground-floor. A minute later the 
banging to and fro of one of the garden-doors told 


242 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


her where the wind came from. She hurried, rather 
reckless than fearless, in the direction of the open 
door, looked out, saw nothing outside but the trees 
and bushes shaking in the wind. The appearance 
of the door itself, however, frightened her. It had 
been safely secured, but then burst open from the out- 
side. And on the ground lay the very hatchet which 
she had seen Ralph Ryder take from Pickering’s chest, 
and with which the old gardener had forced open the 
door of the fatal room at The White House. 

Nanny secured the door as well as she could by the 
single bolt which remained uninjured, and turned 
quickly, attracted by the sound of some person mov- 
ing about in the library close by. In the darkness she 
had to grope her way to the door. For a few seconds 
she listened, with a violently beating heart, to the 
slow movements of the intruder. She relit her candle, 
and then, turning the handle, she looked into the 
room. 

Sitting at the table, helpless, aimless as a babe, with 
his head resting sleepily on his arms, quiet, worn out, 
all his passion and fury over, was the murderer Ralph 
Ryder. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

In the course of the evening she had passed at The 
White House, and of the subsequent night-terrors she 
had experienced in her own home, Nanny seemed to 
have worn out, for the time, her capacity for emotion. 
She stood gazing in silence at the bent head in front 
of her, until Ralph Ryder, moving slightly, became 
aware of the light in the room, and raised his head 
sleepily. 

Nanny uttered a low-voiced exclamation, and he 
turned to look at her. For some minutes they re- 
mained gazing at each other as if they now saw each 
other s face for the first time. Already the feverish 


I^ALPil RYDER OF BRENT. 


243 

light which had glowed in the madman’s face while 
his passion was at its height had given place to a 
dull, almost gentle, expression, as if a film had 
passed over his eyes. In the short time which had 
elapsed since he committed the murder, he seemed 
to have aged so rapidly that Nanny, for the first 
time, saw that he was an old man. For although 
her husband's hair was gray and his manner some- 
what grave and dignified, the ring in his voice, the 
vigour and activity of his movements, and the 
freshness of his sunburnt complexion, had given her, 
in spite of the doubts cast by Mrs. Calverley and the 
old gravedigger, an impression of youth and strength. 

Now, however, this was gone. The furrows in 
his handsome face, the lack-lustre eyes, the slow, 
heavy movements, all spoke of the weight of years. 
He pushed his curly gray hair back from his forehead, 
and began stroking his moustache as he looked at 
her with restless, wandering eyes. He scarcely 
seemed to know her. 

Nanny, seeing, as she believed, that she had no 
reason to feel afraid of him, came a step nearer to 
his chair. 

“Why have you come here ? ” she said gently. 

She did not know why she asked this question, 
except that she wanted to hear his voice, and to learn 
whether he really recognized her. He frowned a 
little, as if her words puzzled him. 

“This is my home,” he said presently, in a voice 
so changed, so old, that Nanny started as she 
listened. 

‘ ‘ Oh, yes, ” she said, and then paused. He still 
stared at her, almost as if he wondered why she 
stayed. ‘ ‘ Are you going to stay here .? ” she asked 
timidly at last. 

“ Yes,” he answered ; “I think so. Then rising, 
he went on pettishly, “They don’t make me com- 
fortable at the other place. I have been very uncom- 
fortable. And I — I must see my wife, I must see my 
wife ! ” 


244 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


“Your wife ! ” faltered Nanny. 

And half involuntarily her eyes wandered to the 
bookcase in which had lain the books containing 
Lady Ellen’s name. After a short pause, Ralph 
Ryder’s eyes wandered thither also. ” 

‘ ‘ Is Lady Ellen your wife ? ” asked Nanny trem- 
ulously. 

“Yes. Of course.” 

“He stood for a few minutes staring vacantly at 
the wall. Then he asked, in a timid voice, like a 
child : 

‘ ‘ Is she alive ? I never see her now. Is she 
alive .? ” 

“ I believe she is alive,” answered Nanny, in a 
perfectly steady voice. “ But she is not here.” 

Silence again. Nanny, in a dazed way, as she 
stood watching him, fell to analyzing her own feel- 
ings. So her short married life had been a dream to 
him — just a short vision of sanity and happiness, to 
end in this horrible dead sleep of the poor diseased 
mind. The tears rolled down her cheeks. She for- 
got herself, forgot the meaning to her of these shock- 
ing facts. Consciously or unconsciously the mad- 
man had ruined her life. She knew this, but in feel- 
ing for him she did not, for the time, feel for herself. 
The change, indeed, was so striking from the vigorous 
man in the prime of life, who could not look at her 
without betraying in his glance the depth of his 
passionate affection, to the unhappy, broken-down 
creature before her, that a generous nature could not 
consider the contrast without being appalled. 

Suddenly she perceived, through the tears which 
were filling her eyes, a rising restlessness in the 
madman which she took for the premonitory 
symptom of another outbreak. He began to march 
up and down the room, and, to Nanny’s horror, the 
springing, martial tread came back, he held his head 
erect, she saw again the figure and carriage of which 
she had been so proud in her husband. 

“ Oh, don’t ! ” s*he murmured, her very teeth chat- 


RALPH RYDER OF B RE HP. 


245 

tering. And she sank upon a chair, trembling and 
sobbing in spite of herself. She could control herself 
as long as the man before her seemed a different 
person from the husband she had loved, but that 
first glimpse of the man who had been all the world 
to her broke her down. She tried in vain to repress 
her tears and her sobs, and as she heard his steps stop 
in front of her, she could not help whispering, 
though without looking up ; 

“ Oh, Dan ! oh, Dan ! After all our happiness 

Ho put his hand on her head, and heaved a heavy- 
sigh. But when she looked up, hoping in spite of 
herself for one comforting glance, one gleam of a 
tender memory, she saw nothing but the blank, 
mindless gaze of a man in whom the past, the near 
past, /at any rate, was dead. Even the kindly im- 
pulse of consolation was exhausted almost as soon 
as it rose. With a shiver Nanny got up. 

I am very tired," he said childishly, “and I am 
hungry. I think they have forgotten to give me 
anything to eat." Then, in a sombre voice, he 
added : “ It is my wife’s doing. Ellen does not care 
if I starve." 

And again Nanny saw in his face, in his restless 
movements, something which made her dread another 
outbreak. 

What should she do with him ? Where should she 
put him } Some restraint must be put upon him, 
and the servants must not see him. For Valentine 
Eley would be spreading abroad the news of the 
murder, and he would certainly not be reticent con- 
cerning the perpetrator ; indeed, he could not afford 
to be, lest suspicion should fall upon himself. 

“ I will bring you something to eat," she said, “if 
you will stay quietly here till I come back. " 

As he seemed inclined to be submissive, she made 
him sit down again in the chair he had occupied by 
the table, and then she went in search of food. 
There was a gas-stove in one of the kitchens, so she 
boiled some eggs and made some cocoa. She did 


RALPH RYDER OF B RENT. 


246 

not think this would make a very nice meal, but she 
thought it would be one of which the traces would 
be easily disposed of. When she got back to the 
study with her tray, Ralph Ryder had fallen into a 
heavy sleep, from which, after some debate with 
herself, she roused him. He was quite gentle, how- 
ever, ate what she brought him ravenously, and then 
asked, in the same childlike way, where he was to 
sleep. 

Nanny had had time to consider what to do. But 
how to break to him the plan she had in her mind .? 

“ I am afraid,’' she began cautiously, after a pause, 
“that, if the servants were to find you here in the 
morning, they would think it very strange.” 

To her surprise, he assented readily. 

“They might give me up,” he said. 

This implied knowledge of the risk he ran from the 
crime he had committed made Nanny feel sick with 
horror. It was comparatively easy to be kind and 
gentle with him, in the belief that he was as ignorant 
as a babe of the wrong he had done. But to shield 
a conscious murderer was a different thing ! 

“Where shall I go.? ” he asked, with all the signs 
of nervous trepidation. “Tell me, tell me! Put 
me where you like — only somewhere where I shall 
be safe.” 

But this emotion on his part very nearly drove the 
poor little woman’s plans out of her head. It seemed 
to make her an accomplice in his crime. He came 
up to her, and touched her elbow impatiently as if to 
stir her up to action. She shrank away, deadly 
white and very cold. 

I — I — I thought,” she began in a tremulous 
voice, “ that perhaps you would not mind — of course, 
it is only for a day or two — before you go away for 
a change— a change of air — you might stay — not in 
the house exactly, there is a room close by — over the 
stable. It was used last week while the roof was 
being repaired over the servants’ bedrooms, so it is 
quite aired and fit to sleep in. Would you mind ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT 


247 

He did not wait for her to finish the sentence, but 
stood already outside the door. Nanny softly drew 
back the bolt of the garden-door close by, and led 
the way, by a pretty path hedged in completely by 
trees and shrubs, to the stables. I’he brougham 
her husband had promised her had, at her earnc^st 
request, not yet been bought. The long red-brick 
building, with its picturesque chimneys and gables, 
and its now raggedly-hanging threads of red Virginia 
creeper, was still deserted. They crossed the moss- 
grown yard, and Nanny, producing the ke)^ which her 
husband had confided to her care before starting on 
his melancholy journey, entered the building, telling 
her companion to follow. 

Although Nanny felt by no means free from the 
fear lest a paroxysm of fury should again possess 
him, she behaved, on the way through these dark 
paths and deserted passages, with philosophical calm. 
For if, she argued with herself, a murderous impulse 
should again seize him, nothing in the world could 
save her ; and as her ignorance concerning the phases 
of his malady was complete, there was nothing for 
her to do but to behave quite simply and straight- 
forwardly, and to trust to Providence for her safety. 
As it proved, however, it was the best way to treat 
him. When they reached the room on the upper 
story which she proposed to put him in, she held 
the candle high and asked him if he thought he would 
be comfortable. 

“Yes,” he answered, without looking round or 
showing the least interest. 

And he sat down on one of the plain rush-bottomed 
chairs, and seemed to sink into a reverie. 

“I will bring some bedclothes,” she said. “Shall 
I leave the candle with you .? ” 

“ Yes,” he answered as before. 

Not quite certain whether she was doing right, 
Nanny left the candle with him, and went away. 
But when she returned from the house with a heavy 
bundle, he was in exactly the same position as she 


248 RALPH RYDER OF B RE HT. 

had left him in. He looked up, however, as, panting, 
she let the great parcel of blankets and sheets fall 
upon the floor. 

“You ought not to do that,” he said wonderingly. 

Nanny’s eyes met his, and she asked herself what 
thought could be moving in his poor clouded brain. 
But the next moment his head fell upon his breast, 
and he sat in silence while she made the bed and put 
out soap and towels for him. 

At last her task was done, and she stood before 
him diffidently, wondering how he would take the 
next suggestion she had to make. 

“ I have done all I can to make you comfortable 
for the night now,” she said. She wished she could 
say “Dan,” but the old pet name seemed to choke 
her. “Don’t you think, for fear any of the servants 
should come this way in the morning, you know, 
that you had better — that I had better — turn the key 
in the lotk .? ” 

“Yes,” said he at once, but with a trifle more 
interest than before. “Or course, they mustn’t find 
me out. ” Then, throwing a furtive glance round the 
room, as an animal in confinement does round its 
cage, he whispered : “But they won’t — they won’t ! 
I was so very careful — ha, ha ! — so very careful ! ” 

And he uttered a laugh which froze his hearer’s 
blood. It showed the madness in his blood more 
plainly than anything he had done or said since his 
arrival under the roof of The Grange. Nanny stood 
before him, too much shocked to find more words. 
As she turned away, he suddenly put out his hand 
and caught hers, which shrank at his touch. 

“You are very cold — and white,” he said. Then, 
with a sudden burst of rising excitement, he cried : 
“Go away — go away! The dead look like that. 
White— and — cold. And we hide them away — and 
no one will ever know. No one, no one ! ” 

His voice had sunk to a whisper which chilled 
Nanny. She drew her hand quickly away, and tottered 
out of the room, groping for the door like a blind 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


249 

woman, for the strain upon her had been too much, 
and the tears were welling into her eyes. 

‘ ‘ Good-night,” she whispered at the door. “ I will 
come to see you in the morning. ” 

He did not answer, and Nanny quickly and 
quietly turning the key upon him, crept down the 
stairs and out into the air. She was so cold that she 
could scarcely feel her feet. Shivering and weeping, 
she made her way back into the house and stole up 
to her bedroom, into which the first fays of morning 
were penetrating. She was so utterly worn out in 
body and mind that, contrary to her expectations, 
she fell into a heavy sleep almost immediately. 

Nanny was roused next morning by the housemaid, 
who came to tell her that Pickering, the gardener, 
was waiting downstairs, and that he wanted to see 
her particularly. She dressed hastily, and, passing 
through the hall, beckoned to the old man ' to follow 
her into the drawing-room. By his first words she 
knew that he had not yet discovered the murder. 

‘ ‘ The Captain’s got away, ma’am, ” he said. ‘ ‘ And 
Mrs. D. and her brother have disappeared too.” 

“The Captain is all right,” she answered, in a 
tremulous voice. “ He escaped and came here in the 
night. I have shut him up in a room over the stable. 
He was very quiet, and seemed to understand that 
he must hide.” 

Pickering looked at the young lady with astonish- 
ment and concern. 

“ You do bear up most wonderful, ma’am,” he said 
at last ; “ but it’s telling on you, all the same, if I may 
make so bold as to say so. You look five-and-thirty 
this morning, ma’am, that you do.” 

However deep her griefs might be, this was scarce- 
ly the sympathy she would have asked. Nanny 
laughed faintly. 

“ Oh,” she said, “you see, youth and beauty are 
not of so much use to me now as some other qual- 
ities. So I’ve exchanged them.” 

Pickering looked uneasy as well as compassionate. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


250 

He began twisting his cap in his hands like a 
nervous boy, and shifted his glances from the lady’s 
face to the carpet. 

“You know, maam,” he said at last, with a tone 
and manner which betrayed conflicting feelings — 
“you know — that — er — that things aren’t so bad as 
they might be for you.” 

“Well, I think my prospects might be rosier than 
they are, Pickering,” responded Nanny dubiously. 

“Oh, yes, ma’am. I’m not saying that; but ” 

A long pause. Then, as if his feelings were too much 
for him, out came a burst of confidence. “ But, as I 
said, they might be worse. Look’e here, ma’am, I’m 
a-going to do for you what I never thought to ha’ done 
for anybody, and that’s break faith with one I’ve kept 
true to thirty years. I thought Lady Ellen was hardly 
done by, but now I find somebody else harder done 
by still. Why, it’s more’n I can stand to see it ! ” 

Pickering was getting, considering his natural 
stolidity, much excited by his own eloquence. He 
was preparing himself for a grand climax to his 
oration. 

“ For see here, ma’am. It’s a bad enough thing to 
be mixed up in a business with a madman, but it’s 
better than being the wife of one. And what I’ve 
come to tell you, ma’am, and what you may take my 
word for, though you mustn’t ask me no questions, 
is this : you’ve been thinking he’s your husband, 
ma’am, but he’s not. ” 

In spite of the need of caution in making these very 
delicate disclosures, Pickering was so much moved 
that he brought out the last word in a voice of thunder. 
Poor Nanny, to whom this statement was far from 
being the surprise he expected, could not forbear from 
smiling at his grotesque vehemence. 

“I know that, Pickering, 1 know that,” she said 
quietly. “ His wife is Lady Ellen Ryder.” 

“ Why, ma’am, how did you find it out I ” 

“ He told me so, for one thing.” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


251 

‘'Well, ma’am, and ain’t that fit to be called good 
news ? ” 

“Why, ye — es, perhaps it is. But I’m still bound 
to keep watch over him till this Lady Ellen turns 
up. And why is she so strangely shy of appear- 
ing.?” 

“Well, ma’am,” said the old man diffidently, 
“they do say — though, mind you. I’ve never held 
altogether with that way of thinking — that it was her 
flighty ways made the Captain take to the courses he 
did. And then, of course, ma’am, it’s in nature not 
to care to be tied to a mad husband.” 

“ But he’s only mad sometimes. I’m sure 
when ” 

She faltered and broke down. She could not 
discuss that happy time, the remembrance of which 
added one more horror to her present position. The 
old gardener shook his head grimly. 

“Well, ma’am,” he said grimly, “that only makes 
him more dangerous-like, don’t it ? ” 

She could not deny this. She walked to one of the 
windows, and looked out through choking tears at 
the pretty lawn, the border of bright dahlias and 
chrysanthemums fresh from the rain of the night, at 
the piles of brown and yellow leaves which the 
wind had swept down and swirled into little heaps on 
the green grass. But Nanny had not come to med- 
itate on the scene. She turned presently in a tor- 
nado of indignation. 

“I will make the woman come,” she cried pas- 
sionately. “ It is her folly and wickedness in hiding 
herself all this time which have led me into this 
misery.” 

Pickering could not contradict her. She walked 
briskly to her writing-table. 

“Will you send off a telegram for me at once.?” 
she asked, as she took up a pencil. 

“Yes, ma’am, certainly.” 

In a few moments she handed him a telegraph- 
form, with this message written : 


252 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


Miss May, 

“ — Clark Street, Edinburgh. 

“Find out and wire immediately name of lady 
staying with Miss A.’’ 

Pickering scratched his head dubiously, as he made 
no scruple of reading this message, but he agreed to 
send it off, and started at once, promising to return 
later to visit the Captain. 

Nanny then breakfasted hurriedly, and afterwards 
with unspeakable reluctance went to the stable, ac- 
cording to her promise, carrying on her arm a covered 
basket which she often used when she went out to 
cut flowers. Into this she had put a cup of tea and 
food from the breakfast-table. She entered the stable 
by the back way, unlocked and opened the door of 
the madman’s room without having obtained any 
answer to her knock, and found him still asleep. 
She put the food beside him, and left the room with- 
out waking him. 

The day passed quietly, but in the evening Picker- 
ing, with a face as white as that of a dead man, 
again came to The Grange. Nanny, seeing that he 
was unable to speak, said : 

“You have found something } ” 

“ Oh, ma’am, surely you don’t know ! ” 

“I am afraid I do,” she answered, as calmly as 
ever. “You have found the body of Mrs. Durrani” 

They compared what they knew — she telling of 
the struggle she had heard, the noise of the opening 
window ; he of his discovery of the dead body 
among the shrubs in the garden underneath. 

“ I have locked up the place, ma’am, and left the 
body to lie,” he said. “I daren’t touch it, and I 
daren’t go on living at my cottage there. So, if you 
please, I’ll stay at the stable here, and look after the 
poor master. But there’ll be difficulties and dangers 
yet, ma’am, over this awful business. For there’s 
two people knows of it besides us. There’s Mr. 
Eley, who’s got no wits to live on now his sister’s 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


253 


gone ; and there’s the servant, who’s gone, and who 
must have known something. For there’s a lot of 
the poor dead woman’s things missing.” 

Before Nanny’s eyes floated an awful vision of a 
trial, a conviction, and a sentence upon her husband 
as a criminal lunatic. Her husband .? No, not even 
that. All the dreadful shame would come out, to 
add to her misery. She stood transfixed, having 
nothing to say. Pickering glanced at her with re- 
spectful sympathy ; he had, however, no consolation 
to offer. 

While he still stood there a telegram was brought 
to Nanny. It was from Meg, in answer to hers. 
This was the message : 

“Mrs. Ryder, 

‘ ‘ Grange, Brent. 

“ Your mother-in-law, Mrs. Ryder, arrived at Miss 
A.’s day before yesterday with a lady whose name 
I cannot discover. 

“ Meg.” 

Nanny did not show this telegram to Pickering, 
nor did she offer any comment on it. She simply 
walked to her writing-table, and wrote out another 
telegram : 

“ Mrs. Ryder (c/o Miss May), 

‘ ‘ — Clark Street, Edinburgh. 

“Come to Brent Grange at once, and bring Lady 
Ellen. Her husband wishes to see her.” 

This message she offered to the old gardener to 
read. But the perusal of it scared him. He looked 
up at her with a deprecating glance. 

“ I daren’t send off that message, ma’am.” 

Nanny did not attempt to argue with him. 

“Very well. Then I will,” said she. 

She would not listen to the faint offers he then 
made, being resolved not to trust to unwilling hands. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


254 

Dismissing him, therefore, she ran upstairs, put on 
her hat, and went herself to the station. 

She went inside the telegraph-office just at the 
moment that a train drew into the station. When 
she came out on to the platform, the few passengers 
had alighted or taken their places, and the train had 
moved on again. Absorbed as Nanny was in thoughts 
full of terror and sadness, she was conscious that the 
figure of a plainly-dressed lady, walking away from 
her, struck her with a sense of familiarity. She, how- 
ever, attached no importance to this impression, 
which she would have ascribed to the direction of her 
own thoughts. When she got outside the station, 
the lady in front of her hailed the solitary fly on the 
stand outside, and her voice, as she spoke to the 
driver, was distinctly audible to Nanny. 

“Do you know Brent Grange.?" asked the voice. 

Nanny drew a long, choking breath. She tried to 
articulate, but could not. Then, springing forward 
as the other was getting into the fly, she caught her 
arm. 

It was her sister Meg. 

“ Oh, Meg, Meg ! " she sobbed, when her sister 
had with difficulty stifled a scream at the sight of her 
white face : “I — I don’t know why you have come, 
and Tm quite — quite well and — and — and happy. 
But, oh ! Meg, Meg darling, if you hadn’t come, I 
believe I should have died to-night ! ’’ 

They were driving to the Grange now, and she 
sank into her sister’s arms, sobbing bitterly. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 
/ 


255 


CHAPTER XX. 

When her first outburst of joy at her sisters coming 
was over, Nanny drew herself back from Meg’s arms, 
overwhelmed by the increased difficulties of her 
position. Not only had she now to conceal her 
husband, and keep him from escaping into danger, 
but she had to do it all under a pair of watchful eyes. 
For, struggling with the temptation to open her 
heart to her sister, and pour out the whole story of 
the terrible troubles which had fallen upon her, 
Nanny resolved still to keep her own counsel. Warm- 
hearted, strong-willed Meg was too impulsive to be 
trusted unreservedly with such delicate secrets as 
those which were burdening poor Nanny. If she 
were to hear of Dan’s madness and previous marriage, 
she would want to consult a lawyer about the pos- 
sibility of having her sister’s marriage annulled. 

Now, this course might be inevitable. But yet 
Nanny shrank from it. Besides the shame of con- 
fessing the miserable mistake she had made, there 
was down at the bottom of her heart still a wild, 
vague hope that “things would come right, after all.” 
It seemed to her, now that she again felt a pair of 
affectionate arms round her, that such absolute ruin 
could not come upon her life so early, and without 
any fault of her own. Dan would get well, and 
Lady Ellen would prove never to have been his wife 
at all, and 

Then before her eyes rose, like a black mist, the 
remembrance of the crime which had been com- 
mitted almost before her eyes. She shuddered, and 
Meg’s arms closed lovingly round her again. 

“What made you come, Meg.?” she asked sud- 
denly, wondering whether she had made unconscious 
admissions in her weekly letters. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


256 

‘‘Your telegram,*’ answered her sister promptly. 

‘ 1 knew by the tone of your letters that there was 
something wrong, and when I got that telegram 1 
knew it was very wrong. So I came at once.” 

“And you found out the name of the lady who is 
staying with Miss Anstruther .? ” asked Nanny, with 
as much composure as she could muster. 

“I hadn’t time. I tell you I came away at once, 
with hardly any luggage, catching the next train. 
Luckily, I had saved enough out of the housekeeping 
money for my ticket.” 

‘ ‘ Poor Meg ! How you must have scraped ! ” 

“I did. I’ve never wasted a match or an end of 
thread. But I knew very well you would have 
trouble sooner or later, and I was determined that I 
would be able to come.” 

Nanny trembled. How would she be able to 
keep her secret under such tender yet resolute care 
as this .? 

“Of course, too, I know what the trouble is. I 
knew as soon as I got the telegram. He was married 
already, and this lady you asked about is ” 

“Oh, don’t, don’t!” interrupted Nanny with a 
groan. “ Meg, don’t make me sorry you have come.” 

There was a short pause, and when Meg spoke 
again it was in a very low and gentle voice. 

“ I won’t say a word that you don’t wish to hear, 
dear. You will know what you asked by to-night. 
I commissioned old Mrs. Bruce to find out the name 
of the lady who is staying with Miss Anstruther, and 
to telegraph it to me at once. You know how dis- 
creet Mrs. Bruce is. She would never say a word 
about it to any one, and she visits Miss Anstruther so 
often that she could find out better than anybody 
else.” 

“Yes. Thank you, Meg.” 

Another pause. 

“Captain Ryder is away still?” asked Meg pres- 
ently, in a distinctly colder tone. 

“Yes.” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


»57 


“ Do you expect him back soon ? ” 

* ‘ I — don’t — know. ” 

Nanny’s trembling voice, anc. an unmistakable con- 
straint in her tone, would have betrayed clearly 
enough that there was some cause of estrangement 
between husband and wife. Meg was wise enough 
to say no more on the subject ; and, as they had by 
this time reached the Grange, both were glad of a 
natural opportunity of changing the conversation. 

“Nanny, what a lovely place ! ” cried the elder 
sister enthusiastically. 

And it crossed her mind, with a sharp pang that 
Nanny must indeed have suffered deeply here, since 
her letters had contained so little praise of her beauti- 
ful new home. Young Mrs. Ryder tried to throw her- 
self into the pleasure and pride of showing the place, 
and of listening to the expression of her sister’s admi- 
ration. But at the very outset she received a shock 
which made it hard to maintain her composure. 

On entering the drawing-room, Nanny found lying 
on one of the tables a note directed to her in a man’s 
handwriting which she did not know. A servant had 
come into the room with a lamp, and Nanny turned 
to her and asked who had called in her absence. 

“Noone, ma’am,” said the maid. 

‘ ‘ Who brought this note in here, then ? ” 

“I don’t know, ma’am. But I’ll ask the others.” 

She left the room ; and Nanny, first taking care to 
turn her sister’s attention to the view of the garden 
from the window, went close to the lamp and tore 
open the note. She saw that it had been scrawled 
hurriedly in pencil on a half-sheet of her own note- 
paper taken from her writing-table, which stood near 
the window. This was the note : 

“ Dear Madam, 

“ I am sure you will not refuse to give me 
assistance when you know what the consequence of 
your refusal would necessarily be. I must get away j 
from here, or I shall be presently arrested on suspicion 

17 


J^ALPII KYjJfEK OF BRENT. 


258 

of having caused the death of my unhappy sister, 
whose body cannot fail to be found in a few days. 
I know that Captain Ryder was not responsible for 
his actions at the time he committed this crime. But 
if the truth were to come out about it, the story about 
his killing his own child could not fail to be discovered 
also, and he would be confined by the State as a 
criminal lunatic, which is just what your mother-in- 
law has incurred so much trouble and expense to 
avoid. Now what will you and she do for me.? I 
am willing to go away, right out of the country if you 
like, but of course my expenses must be paid. Will 
you please confer with her as quickly as possible .? 
I don’t know her address, or I would write to her my- 
self. I shall wait about the grounds, and you will 
perhaps be kind enough to come out and speak to me 
this evening. I spent last night in town, but I was 
obliged to come back here this afternoon, as I have 
no money left. 

‘ ‘ I am, madam, yours obediently, 

“Valentine Eley.” 

Nanny read this letter through and put it into her 
pocket. Then approaching the window at which her 
sister was standing, she perceived that it was not 
fastened. Remembering that she had left it open 
that afternoon, she knew by what means Valentine 
had left the note upon her table. She had scarcely 
finished reading it when the parlour-maid returned to 
say that none of the other servants had brought a note 
in or opened the door to a visitor that afternoon. 
Meg, who must have noticed this incident, made no 
remark upon it. She seemed to have grown preter- 
naturally discreet. Even when, during dinner, a 
message was brought that Pickering wished to see 
Mrs. Ryder for a few moments, and Nanny, turning 
white and cold, immediately left the room, Meg made 
no remark, and seemed not to notice the perturbation 
which was visible in her sister’s manner. 

Pickering was going, he said, away for a day or 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


259 


two, and he had come to warn Mrs. Ryder that, in 
the meantime, ‘ ‘ the Captain ’’ — and here he jerked his 
thumb over his shoulder in the supposed direction of 
the stable — would be dependent upon her for his food. 

“You won’t find him difficult to manage, ma’am,” 
said he. “ Now the fit’s over he’ll gradually get him- 
self again, and in a day or two he’ll be as right as 
ever, and you’d never guess there had been anything 
wrong with him. And what’s more, he won’t know 
it himself.” 

Nanny, far from being reassured by this intelligence, 
listened with dread. That would indeed be the most 
terrible trial of all, when, never guessing the frightful 
experience to which he had subjected his wife, he 
would claim her love and duty without a doubt or a 
suspicion. 

‘ ‘ But, Pickering, can’t you stay a little longer .? Is 
it really necessary that you should go away just 
now ? ” 

“Indeed it is, ma’am, and, to say true, it’s mostly 
along of you I’m going. This here business must be 
found out in a day or two, and there’ll be an inquest, 
and all sorts of questions asked. And I’m a-going to 
make Lady Ellen take her share of the bother this 
time, instead of shoving it all on to your shoulders.’ 

“Oh, Pickering, don’t! I’d rather not see her. 
At least — I don’t know what to do.” 

The poor child put her head in her hands. 

“Don’t you give way, ma’am. It’s better for you 
than her, after all, ma’am, you see. For she’s his wife, 
and she can’t get out of that. And for you, why, it’s 
only just an unpleasantness, after all.” 

It was the philosophical way of looking at it, but 
it brought no comfort to Nanny, whose heart was 
sore with an irreparable loss, an unmerited shame. 
She told Pickering that the brother of the niurdered 
woman was about, again levying blackmail. The 
old man advised her to help him, as otherwise he 
might be suspected of the crime, and might have to 
tell what he knew to save himself. 


26 o 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


‘‘You see, we must keep it dark as long as we can, 
ma’am ; and then Lady Ellen, who is a famous hand 
at that game, may hit on a plan for hushing it up, as 
she did last time. I don’t know what the servant- 
girl knows, but as she’s run away and taken a lot of 
her poor mistress’s things with her, she’s not likely to 
trouble us.” 

Nanny bade the old gardener good-bye with a heavy 
heart, and returned to the dining-room, where Meg 
received her without a single question. This delicate 
reserve on the part of her impulsive elder sister was 
becoming disquieting to Nanny. What did she sus- 
pect.? Meg had left the dinner-table, and was sitting 
by the fire eating grapes, the yellow flames throwing 
into high relief a head of hair which her enemies, if 
she had had any, would have called “ carroty.” She 
only glanced up when her sister entered, and went 
on eating. 

“This is a jolly house ! ” she said voluptuously, as 
she settled herself a little further back in her chair and 
glanced at its caftwed arms. 

“Jolly ! ” echoed her sister, in a tone of mingled 
bitterness and indignation. 

“I repeat— said Meg, more emphatically. 
“Of course I have heard of ‘splendid misery’ 
and ‘hollow hearts beneath crowns,’ and the rest of 
it. But after twenty-two years of happy penury, or 
penurious happiness, whichever you like to call it, I 
unhesitatingly say, Oive me misery and millions. 
Put me in a big, beautiful house, and then neglect me 
as much as ever you like.” 

“ I’m not neglected,” said Nanny slowly. “And I 
am not sure that I would go back to the old days, 
although ” — and her voice faltered — “I admit that I’m 
not very happy. But you see, Meg, it changes one 
so to be frantically happy and then frantically miser- 
able, that to talk of the Nanny of the old days is like 
talking of some small, insignificant dead thing that 
I didn't know or care much about. Now, can you 
amuse yourself while I write some letters ? ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 261 

Certainly. Where shall I bestow myself ? ” 

“ Will you come into the drawing-room .? The fire 
will have burnt up by this time, and it will be warm 
and cheerful. I can write my letters in the study. ’ 

Meg s suspicions were roused at once. For Nanny ’s 
writing-table was in the drawing-room. However, 
she got up with unquestioning docility, followed her 
sister, and submitted to be left in solitary state in the 
midst of the brocaded chairs and sofas with gilt legs, 
which filled her simple soul with admiration and 
envy. 

She had, however, something more interesting than 
furniture to occupy her thoughts, being determined to 
find out the whole reason of her sister’s evident un- 
happiness without teasing her by any more questions. 

There was some mystery, she felt sure, beside this 
rumour of a former wife, hanging over The Grange, 
and clouding the life of its young mistress. 

Meg heard Nanny go upstairs, and, putting the 
drawing-room door ajar, she presently heard her come 
down. Peeping out, she saw that Nanny had on a 
hat and cloak, and that she went down the corridor 
which led past the study to a side door into the garden. 

Meg would not follow her ; it would be too much 
like playing the spy. But at that moment the front- 
door bell rang, and Nanny ran back into the hall. A 
minute later she brought Meg a telegram. It was 
from Mrs. Bruce, and this was the message : 

“ Two ladies staying with Miss A. One is Mrs. 
Ryder; cannot learn name of second.” 

Nanny snatched the telegram from her sister’s hand 
and read it. The second lady, she could not doubt, 
was Lady Ellen. And she was staying in the same 
house with old Mrs. Ryder. Nanny was more utterly 
perplexed than ever by this discovery. What, then, 
could the position of Lady Ellen be ? She ran to her 
writing-table, seized a telegraph-form, and wrote this 
message : 


262 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


“Mrs. Ryder (c/o Miss Anstruther), 

• ‘ Street, Edinburgh. 

Come here at once, and bring Lady Ellen with 


you. 


‘ ‘ Antonia Ryder. ” 


She had kept the boy waiting, and she now ran 
into the hall to give him this telegram with her own 
hands. I'hen, without returning to Meg, she went 
into the garden to meet Valentine. Poor Meg longed 
to detain her, for it was raining fast, and the wind was 
keen and cold. Nanny, however, scarcely knew this. 

Valentine Pdey, who had been waiting about, heard 
the garden door shut, and came to meet her im- 
mediately. He wore no overcoat, and was wet 
through and shivering. His voice, when he spoke, 
was hoarse and weak. 

“ Why didn’t you go under some shelter ? ” asked 
Nanny, on perceiving the plight he was in. “ There 
is the summer-house or the stable.” 

He shuddered convulsively. 

“ I went into the stable,” he whispered. “ But 
there were noises — voices there, and — and — I — I 
couldn’t stand it.” 

Nanny, knowing whose voice it was that he had 
heard, asked no further questions. 

“ 1 don’t know what to do for you,” she said doubt- 
fully. ‘ ‘ I have hardly any money, unless a cheque 
would do.” 

“ I’d rather not have a cheque,” he said. “ If you 
can give me some money. I — could get away — 
by train — somewhere — anywhere — ^^away from here. 
This place gives me the horrors. ” 

Nanny was seized with pity for the poor wretch. 
The death of his sister whose stronger mind had sub- 
jected his entirely, seemed to have broken him up. He 
was not threatening or blustering in voice or manner, 
but pitifully weak, ill, and shattered. And he was not 
without a consciousness that this was the attitude best 
calculated to secure him the sympathy of his hearer. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 263 

you go away to-night? You don’t seem 
well enough to walk.” 

“Oh, I shall get to the station somehow, and into 
the first train that starts. Or, if I can’t I should sleep 
under a hedge and start to-morrow morning. There 
would be questions asked if I were to go to an hotel.” 

There would undoubtedly. On the other hand, it 
seemed hard that this man, worthless as’ he might be, 
should creep about like a hunted creature in con- 
sequence of a crime in which he had had no hand. 
Besides, he was scarcely in a fit state to walk about, 
and his appearance would be sure to excite remark at 
the station. 

“ I think,” said Nanny, “you had better come into 
the house and have your clothes dried first. And I 
will find you an overcoat and an umbrella.” 

Valentine assented gratefully, and followed her into 
the house. As she went, it occurred to her that Valen- 
tine’s appearance, and also this back-stairs sort of 
entrance, might set the servants talking. So she led 
him into the nearest room, which was the study, and, 
inviting him to sit by the fire, went upstairs and hunted 
out some clothes of her husband’s for him. Then, 
the maids being all at supper in the servants’ hall, she 
returned to the study, and directed him to go up into 
one of the spare-rooms, where he could change his 
clothes. She was alarmed to see that he at first 
scarcely understood her, and that he staggered as he 
rose from the chair. 

“You are ill, ’’she cried in alarm. 

“ I — I’m afraid I am.” 

“ I must send for a doctor, ’’cried Nanny. 

‘ ‘ No, no ! ” said Valentine, supporting himself against 
the mantelpiece. He foresaw the difficulties, both for 
her and for himself, to which this would give rise. 
“The warm room has made me giddy, that’s all. 
Let me wait here a minute, and I can go.” 

Almost unconsciously they had been talking in 
whispers. Nanny came a step nearer to him, looking 
anxiously at his haggard face. 


264 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

“ You can’t go,” said she. “ It would not be safe 
for you. You must stay until you have seen a doctor, 
even at the risk of everything’s being found out.” 

These last words fell on the ears of the astonished 
Meg, who, believing her sister to be still out of doors, 
had come in search of a book to while away the 
time. 

Nanny sprang back as her sister, who had found the 
door ajar, pushed it open and showed herself. 

“Meg,” said Nanny briefly, “don’t scream out 
and alarm the servants. Will you go for a doctor .? ” 

“Yes,” said Meg promptly, “ if you’ll tell me the 
way.” 

Nanny, who saw that Valentine was growing 
worse each moment, hurriedly gave her sister the 
necessary directions ; and Meg, taking her sister’s hat 
and cloak, started off at once. She had miscalculated 
her own acuteness, however, for, although she man- 
aged to find her way safely to Brent Green, the trees 
in the gardens hid the houses so completely that she 
found it impossible to identify the “ large white house 
with a brass plate on the door.” She retraced her steps, 
therefore, and, finding that the first house on the green 
was a white house, went into the garden to see 
whether there was a plate on the door. Finding that 
there was none, she was returning to the gate, when 
a young fellow ran quickly through and met her face 
to face. 

“ Oh, will you be kind enough to tell me which is 
Dr. Blundell’s cried Meg. 

The young fellow stopped and looked at her in 
momentary bewilderment. It was Charlie Bambridge. 
He recognised young Mrs. Ryder’s hat and cloak, 
and certain tones of the voice. 

“ I will take you to the gate,” said he, turning to 
accompany her. “I hope nobody is ill at The 
Grange } ” he added solicitously. 

‘ ‘ Oh, no. At least ” Meg hesitated, and then 

she changed the subject. “How did you know I 
was from The Grange } ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 265 

''By your voice. You are Mrs. Ryder’s sister, are 
you not ? ” 

“Yes.” 

Meg noticed a warmth of interest in his tone which 
gave her a clue to his identity. 

“Oh,” she said suddenly, “you are one of those 
nice people she is always writing about. Your name 
is Bambridge, isn’t it } ” 

“Yes. Charlie Bambridge.” 

“ Are you the one who rows, or the one who has a 
bicycle .? ” 

“ I am the one who has a bicycle,” said Charlie. 

“And you have a sister named Laura, whom 
my sister is very fond of, and who is very fond of 
her.?” 

‘ ‘ I hope that description applies to all of us. Cer- 
tainly the last part does. We are all fond of her, if I 
may be allowed to say so ; and we are all awfully 
sorry to see the change which has come over her 
since she has been here.” 

He blurted out this last sentence hurriedly, feeling 
that it was better to let this sister know at once that 
something was wrong. Meg, hurrying along beside 
him, guessed that he knew more than this. 

“ She does not seem very happy, I am afraid, ’’she 
said. 

“No. I am very, very glad you have come. I — I 
should like to tell you something. Here we are at 
the doctor’s. May I wait for you and see you home 
to The Grange ? ” 

“Oh, yes, please do.” 

Meg’s simple straightforwardness of speech and 
manner struck the young man with a quaint pleasant 
sense of novelty. It was not a bit like the self-conscious 
brusquerie of those London-bred girls who claim to be 
strong-minded and matter-of-fact. When she had 
delivered her message for the doctor, Meg ran down 
the steps and quietly accepted Charlie’s suggestion 
that she should share the shelter of his umbrella, as 
she had come out without one. 


266 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


‘ ‘ I think you would get along better if you were to 
take my arm/' he said. 

“Thank you, I will," she answered, again accept- 
ing the suggestion. “And now," she went on, as 
they got outside the garden-gate, and the rain 
pattered down through the almost leafless trees above 
them, “ will you please tell me what it was you had 
to say } " 

“Well," said Charlie judicially, “I wouldn't tell 
what I am going to tell you to any other woman, 
because they generally get so hysterical over any- 
thing important." 

“ How do you know that I shall not get hysterical } 
You have scarcely known me half an hour ! " 

“I must take my chance of having made a mis- 
take. I don't think I have, though." 

“And this that you have to tell me concerns my 
sister .? " 

“ You shall judge for yourself. I stayed late in 
town last night to go to the theatre. Just as I was 
turning out of the Strand into Villiers Street to catch 
the last train home by the Underground, a man who 
was coming from the station staggered up to me and 
slapped me on the back It was a fellow named Eley 
who lives at The White House, near here — an awful 
cad, whom I detest. He had been drinking, and 
looked awfully upset. I tried to pass him, but he 
wouldn’t be shaken off, and when I got away by tell- 
ing him I should lose my train, he suddenly turned 
from maudlin to an'^ry, and said that ‘ if he was to be 
treated as a pariah he would make somebody pay for 
it, and I was to tell my friends the Ryders so.' Now, 
the fellow spoke like a desperate man, and — there is 
an awkward secret in the family. " 

“ What is the secret " interrupted Meg, in a tone 
of suppressed excitement. 

“ I cannot tell you. I learned what I know about 
it by an accident, and I am under oath not to divulge 
it." 


“Under oath to whom? 


RALPir RYDER OF BRENT. 


267 


‘‘ To Captain Ryder. 

They had entered The Grange gates, and were going 
through the winding avenue of trees which led past 
the stables to the house. Suddenly a wild laugh, 
which sounded unearthly in the darkness and the 
silence, seemed to ring out from the ivy which hung 
in thick wreaths on the old stables. Meg with diffi- 
culty suppressed a shriek. 

“It sounded,” she whispered, as she and her com- 
panion hurried on through the splashing rain to the 
house-door, “ like a mad laugh, didn’t it.?” 

But Charlie, whom she had requested not to ring 
the bell, was too busily employed in finding the handle 
of the door to make any answer. 


268 


RALPH K YDER OF BRENT 


CHAPTER XXI. 

Do you think I can be of any further use to you or 
to Mrs. Ryder ” asked Charlie, standing on the steps 
of The Grange, as Meg held out her hand to him. 
“ The doctor may give you a prescription which you 
will want made up. I could knock up the chemist 
for you.’’ 

“ It is very kind of you,” said Meg. “ But ” 

“ Don’t say ‘ but.’ I should be so glad if I could 
do anything. Captain and Mrs. Ryder have been 
very kind to all of us. May I wait and see ? ” 

“Yes, if you please. I will go and tell my sister 
you are here.” 

“It is not she who is ill ” said Charlie again. 

“ Oh, no. I — I will go and tell her.” 

She left Charlie in the drawing-room, and ran to the 
study, where she found Nanny, looking anxiously in 
the direction of the sofa, on which Valentine was 
lying. He was already half unconscious, and was 
seized from ^ime to time by severe fits of shiveinng, 
which left him inert and weak. 

“Have you brought the doctor.?” asked Nanny, 
whose face was furrowed with anxiety and distress. 

“ He is coming. Mr. Charles Bambridge is in the 
drawing-room ; he says perhaps he may be of use. I’ll 
go and watch for the doctor.” 

Nanny said nothing, and Meg left her with a kiss 
of sympathy. When Dr. Blundell had seen the 
patient, he said it was impossible to move him that 
night, as Valentine was on the verge of a fever. 

“ His sister had better be sent for, ^ he added, rec- 
ognising Eley, whom he had seen about the neigh- 
bourhood. 

Valentine’s eyes opened with a wide stare. 

“Dead, she is dead,” said he in a hollow voice. 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


269 

The doctor turned to Mrs. Ryder, who had grown 
in an instant ashy-white, and raised his eyebrows 
with an interrogative glance. After a momenf s pause, 
and not before her ghastly face had given an affir- 
mative answer, she bowed her head silently. Valen- 
tine startled them by a hoarse laugh. 

“Nobody is to know anything about it, of course,” 
he said bitterly. “It is part of the secret — the great 
family secret — that Captain Ryder is a lunatic — and 
murderer. ” 

The doctor was startled by these words, absurd as 
the statement naturally seemed to him. He glanced 
from his patient to Nanny, and was still further aston- 
ished to see the look of blank horror on her face. 

“ He — he is delirious — raving,” she whispered 
hoarsely. 

“Yes, yes,” said the doctor, instantly shifting his 
glance back to Valentine. 

But he was not quite satisfied. He wrote a pre- 
scription, which he gave to Nanny, and then asked 
her who was going to sit up with the sick man. 

“ I am,” said she quietly. 

“ Had you not better let me send Mrs. Walters in } 
She is at home now, I know, and — she is a most 
discreet woman, you know.” 

“No, no,” said Nanny quickly; “I would rather 
not. You see, doctor,” she went on, after a moment's 
pause, “ if he is going to talk nonsense like that, and 
if anybody except ourselves hears him, the whole 
neighbourhood will be ringing with silly stories 
presently.” 

“ Not through Mrs. Walters, I am sure,” said he. 
“At any rate, I shall send her, for I could not 
think of leaving you alone with this man, who, as 
you see, will be difficult to manage presently. I am 
very glad.” he continued, as he went along the cor- 
ridor, “that you have someone with you. Your sister 
looks like a capable little person, and it is fortunate 
she is with you at this awkward moment. Good- 
night. ” 


270 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


He was at the front door by this time. As he shook 
hands with Nanny, he asked carelessly : 

“By-the-by, when do you expect your husband 
back, Mrs. Ryder .? ” 

“ I don’t quite know,” said Nanny quietly. “ He 
wrote that he was going on a cruise with a friend, 
but he did not say for how long.” 

“Ah, well, I hope he will be back soon to look 
after you. You don’t look well.” 

He ran down the steps quickly, and disappeared 
in the darkness of the avenue, while Nanny went to 
the drawing-room in a state of high nervous excite- 
ment. In the midst of her distress at the disclosure 
Valentine had made, she felt a throb of relief that her 
terrible secret had, as it were, tickled the ears of a 
man of experience and judgment like Dr. Blundell. 
She even debated with herself whether she should 
take him altogether into her confidence on his next 
visit, and had half resolved upon this important step 
when she reached the drawing-room. 

Meg and Charlie had been entertaining each other 
very well, Meg being interested in the young fellow’s 
account of Captain Ryder, whom he liked, and of 
whom, therefore, he reported most favourably ; and 
Charlie, on his side, being more and more attracted 
by Meg’s simple directness. He took the prescrip- 
tion from Nanny’s hands, and was going to leave 
the house with it, when Nanny, who accompanied 
him through the hall, said hurriedly, in a low voice : 

“I don’t want you to tell anyone at your home 
that there is some one ill here. Except Mrs. Barn- 
bridge — I don’t mind her knowing ; but nobody 
else. You can keep a secret, I know. You did 
keep one for my husband ; now you must keep one 
for me. ” 

“Very well, Mrs. Ryder.” He hesitated, and then 
said : “ May my mother come and see you } ” 

Nanny’s breath came and went fast. It was a 
great temptation, but she thought she had better not 
confide her secret to any fresh person until after she 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


271 


had seen Mrs. Ryder and found out the mystery con- 
cerning Lady Ellen. So she shook her head. 

“Not yet/' she said. “Thank you heartily for 
your kindness. Good-night/' 

But Charlie still stood on the steps. At last he 
said : 

‘ ‘ May / know who it is that is ill, Mrs. Ryder ? " 

After a moment’s hesitation she told him. He 
received the information very quietly, and then bade 
her good-night and left her. 

But the moment the door closed he seemed to be- 
come a different man. Instead of walking calmly 
down the avenue, as he had done while Mrs. Ryder 
could still see or hear him, he set off running as fast 
as he could, and never stopped until he reached Dr. 
Blundells house. The doctor was at home, having 
just returned from Mrs. Walters’ cottage, where he 
had called himself on his way to his own house. 

“Doctor,” said Charlie at once, “what is that fel- 
low Eley doing at The Grange ? ” 

“I’m sure I should like to know, ’’said Dr. Blundell. 
“ He says his sister is dead. Have you heard any- 
thing about it ? ” 

Charlie answered in the negative, and related the 
circumstances of his meeting with Valentine the 
previous night. 

‘ ‘ I feel sure the rascal has been imposing in some 
way on little Mrs. Ryder,” said Charlie. “ I am 
going round to The White House to see if there is any 
truth in what he says.” 

The doctor stared at the young fellow, in whose 
face and manner he saw evidences of more exact 
knowledge than he professed. 

“ Going round there to-night — in the rain.? You 
have something more than mere vague suspicion of 
this fellow to go upon, then .? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Did you ever hear Captain Ryder called a 
lunatic .? ” 

“No.” 


RALPfl RYDER OF BRENT. 


572 

A flash of sudden apprehension illumined his face, 
however. 

“ But you are not surprised at the question ? ” 

‘ ‘ No, doctor . '! 

“I should like to accompany you on your expe- 
dition.” 

They went forth together, therefore, and less than 
half an hour’s sharp walking brought them to the 
gates of The White House. They rang again and 
again, but got no answer. The house was quite 
dark, and the only sound to be heard was the patter 
of the rain against its many windows. Just within 
the gate was a can of milk which had evidently been 
passed through the bars that morning, and had 
remained there untouched ever since. 

“ Looks as if something was wrong,” muttered the 
doctor. “ The Grange gardener lives in a cottage in 
the grounds. We had better make for that. Straight 
on, and up an avenue of trees to the right. ” 

They walked on in silence, very quickly, like men 
prepared for some grim discovery. . A little sodden 
path through the underwood, branching off from the 
avenue, brought them to a wooden door in the high 
wall which surrounded the grounds. On this door 
was roughly painted, in weathern-worn letters. 

Gardener’s Lodge.” There was a bell-handle at the 
side, which Charlie pulled vigorously. The bell 
clanged loudly, but there was no response ; they 
pulled again and again, with always the same result. 

“ If you will give me a hand, or rather a shoulder, 
doctor. I'll climb the wall,” said Charlie. 

“Too deep a drop on the other side, isn’t it.?” 

“ I think I can manage it, and then I can, perhaps, 
open the gate for you.” 

With the doctor’s help, the young man had little 
difficulty in carrying out his first suggestion, but the 
opening of the gate was another matter. It was 
secured by a couple of padlocks fixed in strong iron 
staples, and it was not until after a long burglarious 
search in the cottage, which he entered by pushing 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


up the catch of a window with his pocket-knife, that 
Charlie discovered a bunch of keys, one of which 
proA^ed to be the right one. 

Then they stood a few instants inside the gate in a 
sort of awestruck silence. Their feet were in long, 
thick, wet grass, and damp leaves from the trees 
above fluttered down upon their faces. ^ 

“ Shall I fasten up the gate.?” asked Charlie, in a 
would-be careless tone. 

“No, no ; I don’t think it is necessary. We shall 
be going back in a few minutes, and nobody is likely 
to get in. ” 

“Well, I — I thought I heard footsteps behind us in 
the avenue just now,” admitted the young fellow 
reluctantly. “I looked round, and I didn’t see any- 
body, but ” 

“It may be the gardener himself,” said the doctor. 
“ Anyhow, to tell you the truth, I shall feel more 
comfortable if we have a clear way out of this place 
before us, with no bolts or bars to hinder our progress. ” 

“ So shall I,” said Charlie briefly. 

Both men, indeed, began to feel the gloomy 
influence of the long-neglected place. There was no 
proper path from the gardener’s lodge to the house, 
which stood dark and square against the cloudy night 
sky. It was so dark under the trees, thinly-leaved 
though these now were, that the two men could not 
even see to choose their way, but stumbled on as best 
they could through the rank and straggling vegetation, 
thistle and holly, long grass and broken-down holly- 
hock, which a thousand trailing weeds had bound into 
a compact and treacherous mass. 

“Seems a pity to have abandoned a nice place 
like this, and let it get into such a state, doesn’t it ? ” 
said the doctor, recovering himself as his foot slipped 
on a heap of wet, decaying leaves. 

“Ye — es,” said Charlie dubiously. “If it was 
abandoned ! ” 

“ Oh, ho ! ” cried the doctor. “You don’t think it 
was quite as deserted as people thought, then ? ” 

1 8 • 


274 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


“ I know,” answered Charlie, “that when Arthur 
and I were small boys we used to throw stones over 
the wall, and that one day they were thrown back. 
And the gardener was not in the grounds, for we met 
him on our way home.” 

“ And you never tried to get in and solve the 
mystery .? ” 

“Well, we often talked about doing so, and decided 
exactly what we should do if we came across the 
mysterious thrower of the stones. But the long and 
the short of it is that we were afraid. To tell you the 
truth, 1 feel afraid now. I don’t know whether it is a 
bit of my childish fright haunting me, but 1 could 
swear, every now and then, that I heard some one 
moving alongside of us. There, there, to the left ; 
didn’t you hear .? It is somebody. ” 

“ I — I believe you’re right, ” said the doctor. 

They stood still and listened. After a few seconds 
they both distinctly heard a crackling and rustling, 
too near to the earth to be caused by the wind. 

“ Perhaps it’s a dog,” suggested the doctor. And 
he whistled softly. The sound was answered from 
the road outside. 

“By Jove, there are two of them ! ” said the doctor 
softly. “ Perhaps this old place has become a meeting 
place for thieves.” 

The suggestion seemed a not unlikely one. And 
the two gentlemen stood still a few moments longer 
to consider their next step. The doctor did not take 
long to make up his mind. 

“ I shall go through with this business,” he said 
tirmly. “ We came here to find out whether this 
Eley’s story of his sister’s death is true; and I for one 
don’t leave until I have satisfied myself that there has 
been no foul play here.” 

“ Right you are, doctor.” 

They pressed onward quickly to the left, towards a 
spot where they saw an opening free from trees. The 
undergrowth was thick here also ; they were on the 
borders of what had been a lawn. Between the two 


RALPH RYDER OP BRENT, 


275 


gentlemen and the house there was now only a tangle 
of shrubbery, which had once been a wide rhodo- 
dendron-bed. To the left of this bed there was an open 
door, leading into the house. As they were debating 
whether they should trust themselves inside the 
building at once, or do a little reconnoitring first, a 
man slipped by them at a little distance, and passed 
through the door, closing it after him. 

‘ ‘ Did you see him .? ” asked Charlie in a whisper. 

The doctor nodded. Then, struck by something 
in the young man’s tone, he asked: 

“ Do you know who it was.’ You seemed to 
recognise him.” 

“I did,” answered Charlie. “But don’t ask me 
any more, for Tm bound by my word not to tell you.” 

The doctor looked at him curiously. 

“ Perhaps you can also tell, ” he said in a low voice, 
“who that other man is whom I can just see under 
the trees } 

Charlie turned, and they both watched for a short 
space in silence — keeping perfectly still — the move- 
ments of a figure under the trees they had left, who 
seemed to be watching them in his turn. 

Suddenly the door creaked, and the man who had 
gone into the house came out again. He was carry- 
ing a light, which, however, the wind at once ex- 
tinguished. He stood in a listening attitude for some 
moments, during which the doctor, and Charlie, and 
the third watcher kept perfectly quiet. Then, in a 
voice which sounded hoarse and broken, as if with 
some strong emotion, he cried out : 

“ Catherine, where are you ? ” 

“Catherine is Mrs. Durrant’s Christian name,” 
whispered Charlie to the doctor. 

The man at the door seemed to catch the sound of 
this whisper, for they could just see that he turned 
his head in their direction. A^they kept very quiet. 
However, he presently stepped out hesitatingly, and 
began searching about on the ground, as if he had 
lost something. As he did so he came within nearer 
view of the doctor’s watchful eyes. 


276 


RALPH RYDER OF BREHT* 


“By Jove,” whispered the doctor in great excite- 
ment, “it is Captain Ryder ! ” 

The exclamation was made under his breath, and 
did not reach the ears of the searching man, who be- 
gan to peer about among the rhododendron-bushes, 
muttering to himself as he did so. Suddenly he 
drew himself erect, and threw up his arms with 
a cry. Then he plunged among the shrubs and 
disappeared altogether for a few seconds, uttering 
hoarse lamentations the while. At last his hearers 
managed to catch a few words in the midst of his 
incoherent wailings. 

“Catherine, Catherine,” he cried, “wake up, look 
up, speak to me ! What did I do What was it } 
I can’t remember. I didn’t mean to hurt you ; I am 
sure I never meant to hurt you. Look up, look up ! ” 

Then, with a long moan, he drew himself up again. 

“Dead, dead, dead!” he muttered, clasping his 
hands above his head with an insane, meaningless 
gesture. “Dead, dead! Of course, I killed her ! I 
remember — yes, 1 remember.” 

With a wild laugh he scrambled back into the path, 
and immediately broke out into violent sobbing. 

The doctor and his companion looked from the mad- 
man to each other in dismay. 

“What are we to do, doctor.?” asked the younger 
man. 

But Dr. Blundell had already moved forward ; in 
another moment he had reached the rhododendrons, 
and was forcing his way through them. At the same 
instant, the half-seen figure of the third watcher 
appeared beside him, and the doctor and Charlie 
uttered exclamations of astonishment and horror. 
For the light of a bull’s-eye lantern, thrown suddenly 
on to the ground among the shrubs by the unknown 
watcher, disclosed the mangled body of the dead 
woman at their feet. 

‘ ‘ The police 1 ” exclaimed Charlie. 

“ Yes,” said the constable, who appeared to be more 
delighted with his own acumen than shocked by the 


kALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


277 


discovery, “ I thought there was something up when 
I see you two gentlemen stopping in front of the 
house, so I follered you. And after you'd come in, I 
see this here gent slip in after you, so I watched, and 
I see what you see.” 

He had laid his hand on the arm of the madman, 
who seemed utterly cowed, and remained motionless 
in the centre of the group. 

“You'll have to come along o’ me, sir, please,” 
continued the constable, examining the madman 
scrutinizingly by the light of his bull’s-eye. ‘ ‘ And 
you — oh, Dr. Blundell, beg pardon, sir, I didn’t see it 
was you — would you mind coming to the station, 
sir; and you, sir,” turning to Charlie, “just to say 
what you know about this business } ” 

Both the doctor and his companion, whom the 
policeman did not know, assented very unwillingly, 

! being burdened by the exceedingly unpleasant duty of 
: giving evidence which would bring disgrace and ruin 
' upon a family with which they were intimate. Dr. 
Blundell turned to the unhappy madman, and spoke 
in a voice which betrayed the deepest distress : 

“I regret most bitterly that 1 should be in this 
' position ” 

I He was interrupted by a hoarse, dreary laugh from 
' the unfortunate man, who still stood inert and 
motionless, and seemed to have lost all interest in the 
matter in hand. I'he policeman, glancing at him, 
and seeing him so passive and submissive, made a 
step forward and gave another look at the body, 

I which, however, he did not recognise. While he was 
! stooping over the dead woman, he suddenly felt him- 
self flung on his face among the shrubs ; and when he 
recovered his equilibrium, which he did very promptly, 
it was to find that his prisoner had escaped. By the 
aid of his lantern, he discovered .the retreating form of 
the madman, as the latter made for the door in the 
wall ; and, plunging into the tangled undergrowth, the 
constable gave chase, calling rather sharply upon the 
two bystanders to help him. 


RALPH RYDER OF B RENT. 


278 

Now, the doctor and Charlie had both witnessed 
the blow by which the madman had thrown the 
policeman down ; and, feeling that they had laid 
themselves open to suspicion by their remissness in 
neglecting to seize him, they now felt bound to make, 
at least, a great show of ardour in joining in pursuit. 
But it being clear to both that the constable had not 
known or recognised the offender, they secretly hoped 
that the latter would manage to outstrip them, and, 
by reaching some place of concealment, save himself 
from capture, and them from the most awkward pre- 
dicament in which they had ever been placed. 

' The constable, however, was nimble of foot, and 
though he did not at first gain ground on his prey, he 
kept it in sight. Out at the gate they all went, like 
hare and hounds, all silent, all doing their best in the 
life and death chase, the wind now blowing keen in 
their faces, now following and aiding them, accord- 
ing to the direction they took as the madman led. 
The rain still fell lightly, but they did not feel it. 
Strung up to a pitch of high anxiety, Charlie and the 
doctor soon found that the hunted man was heading 
for The Grange. 

Avoiding the highroad, and taking many a short- 
cut over fields and waste places, which showed him 
to be thoroughly familiar with the neighbourhood, the 
madman came, in an incredibly short time, to a small 
private door in the wall of The Grange garden. 
His pursuers, being not far behind, saw him enter, 
and the doctor and Charlie stopped short. 

“Mrs. Ryder!” gasped out the younger man, out 
of breath. “ This will frighten her to death I ” 

Then they ran on again, but more slowly, and 
passed in their turn into The Grange garden. 

In the meantime the hunted man had made a short- 
cut through the grounds to the house, and tried the 
garden door outside the study. It was fastened. He 
saw, however, that there was a light in the study, 
and knocked sharply upon the window. 

Nanny was sitting at the table inside, with her 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


279 


head upon her hands. The nurse sent by Dr. Blun- 
dell had arrived, and had taken Valentine upstairs to 
one of the spare bedrooms. On hearing the tapping 
on the pane, Nanny started up and opened the 
shutters. In the darkness outside she saw the wild, 
haggard face of Ralph Ryder. 

“ Open, open ! For Heaven’s sake, let me in 1 


28o 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


CHAPTER XXII. 

On first seeing the white face, hearing the hoarse 
voice, Nanny could not repress a cry. The next 
moment, however, she opened the window. Ralph 
Ryder instantly climbed over the ledge, and stood 
before her in the room. 

“ Hush ! he said, ‘ ‘ hush ! They are after me — the 
police ! Three of them. They are in the grounds ; 
they are coming here. You must hide me — hide 
me ! " 

Nanny was perplexed by his astuteness, for he 
turned at once and closed the shutters. 

“They will search the house. Where will you 
put me } " he asked. 

Already, indeed, both he and Nanny heard sounds 
in the garden, which told them that the pursuers must 
be near. There was no time to lose. An inspiration 
came to her. Dashing across the room to the other 
window, she opened the shutters, and then the 
window itself. She could hear a rough man’s voice 
-r-that of the constable — calling to his companions 
to ‘Come on,’ and directing one of them to watch 
the gate. Then she bade Ralph get out of this 
window, telling him not to speak, but to obey her 
directions as quickly as he could, and he would be 
safe. She then extinguished the lamp, leaving no 
light in the room but the dying embers of the fire, 
and in her turn jumped out of the window. The 
hunted man, hearing the voices of his pursuers, was 
trembling with fear, and called to her piteously to 
“ Make haste, make haste ! ” 

There was a cellar under the study, before the 
window of which was a small underground window, 
the area in front of which was fenced in at the top 
by a grating. It was this grating which had given 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


281 


way, on the occasion of the accident to Captain 
Ryder. Quick as thought, Nanny went down on 
her knees on the ivy-covered earth, raised the grating, 
and signed to Ralph to descend. He did so without 
a moment’s hesitation, and she replaced the grating. 

“You will be quite safe there for the present,” she 
said. “And as soon as I dare, I will come back and 
let you out.” 

He made no answer ; and Nanny, hearing a knock 
at the front door, sprang back into the study, shut 
the window and the shutters, and ran upstairs to 
change her dress, the front of which was soiled with 
the earth on which she had knelt. To wash the dirt 
from her hands, to fling on a dressing-gown, and to 
go down to the door was the work of very few 
seconds, so few that the policeman’s knock had 
been only once repeated when she drew back the 
bolt, let fall the chain, turned the key, and opened the 
door a very little way. 

“Who is it.? ” she asked, in a tone of great surprise. 

“Very sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” panted the 
constable, out of breath with his run ; ‘ ‘ but we’re 
after a murderer, and we must ask your leave to 
come in.” 

“A murderer!" echoed Nanny, who had not, 
indeed, to feign horror at his words. 

She took care at the same time to throw the door 
wide open. The constable’s whistle had summoned 
two more policemen, who stood behind their comrade. 

“Who is it.?” she went on for the manner of the 
man’s announcement suggested a hope that he was 
Ignorant of the name of the criminal. 

“ I don’t know, ma'am,” was the reassuring answer. 
“ But I had a good look at him, and I should know 
him anywhere. He ran up to this house. How 
many gates out of these grounds are there, ma’am .? ” 

“Three,” answered Nanny, who saw that in an 
appearance of great candour lay her best chance of 
deceiving the police. “The principal one, a small 
door in the wall there, *’ and she indicated the direction 


282 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


of the door by which the men had entered; “and 
another small one to the north, opening on the green/’ 
“Thank you, ma’am. That’s all right, then. — 
Bealby,” he went on, turning to one of his two com- 
rades, “you go to the north door, and look out. The 
doctor and the other gentleman are watching the two 
other gates, so we’ve got him. And now, ma’am, 
with your permission, we must search the house.” 

“ The house ! Certainly you can search, if you like. 
But how could he have got in } ” 

“Don’t know. I’m sure, ma’am,” said the police- 
man cautiously. “But, you see, I myself heard a 
window open and shut, though I wasn’t near enough 
to tell which window. But it looks as if some one 
about was Mn the know,’ don’t itf 

“ It is very extraordinary,” said Nanny. “ But I am 
quite sure you will not find the man here, for we 
always fasten the shutters at night.” 

The two constables then proceeded to make an 
exhaustive search throughout the house, even examin- 
ing every corner and cupboard in the room where 
Valentine lay ill. Nanny felt no great concern during 
this proceeding : the question which troubled her was 
how to get the hunted man out of his hiding-place 
and into a nook of safety after the constables’ de- 
parture. Her fears began, nevertheless, to rise, 
when she found that the men insisted on the opening 
of a door in the servants’ quarters, which led to the 
underground cellars. She had not contemplated the 
possibility of their search being so thorough as this ; 
and having made her one objection that she had not 
got the key, which they met with the rejoinder that 
they could force the lock, she dared say no more. 

So the lock was forced ; and Nanny, with a loudly 
beating heart, followed the men down the narrow 
stone staircase into the cellars. They were not very 
extensive, unfortunately, these underground regions ; 
and after glancing into the wine-cellar, the key of 
which had been left in the lock, they entered the 
waste pl^ce which lay underneath the study. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 283 

If they would only keep away from the window J 
Nanny in the background with a light in her hand, 
talked volubly in the attempt to divert their attention. 

It seemed to the anxious woman that they had some 
suspicion of this corner of the house, for they became 
slower and more careful than ever in their search. 
The heaps of damp lumber lying in the old room they 
peered about, they dived into ; not a corner was left 
out. Step by step, going cautiously along, they 
reached the window. Nanny’s heart stood still. 
Snatching the candle from his comrade’s hand, the 
man who had been spokesman throughout the affair 
peered out, pressing his face close to the glass. Then 
he threw up the window, and felt with his hand round 
the area-walls. 

If the man had turned to glance at young Mrs. 
Ryder at that moment, her looks would have betrayed 
her guilty knowledge. White, trembling, with star- 
ing eyes and quick-coming breath, Nanny bent for- 
ward, waiting for a shout of triumph or a groan of 
despair. 

But she heard neither. 

Slowly the policeman drew in his head, shut down 
the window, and gave a final keen glance round the 
room. 

‘"Now, I could have sworn it was to this end of 
the house he came,” he muttered in a bewildered and 
disappointed tone ; “ and it would be just the place to 
make for, too — about the only window without bars 
or shutters, I suppose.” 

“ But there is a grating outside, above — at least, I 
think so,” said Nanny, leading the way out. 

She was perplexed and desperately anxious. Where 
had Ralph gone to ? How could she have been so 
silly as to depend on the patience and prudence of a 
man mentally afflicted } He must have grown tired 
of waiting and have left his hiding-place, in which 
case he would inevitably be arrested while wandering 
about the grounds or trying to escape through one or ^ 
other of the well-guarded gates. For the gaps in the 


284 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT 


old-fashioned high wall, which shut in the grounds as 
carefully as if the house had been a convent, had been 
repaired, and to climb it was now impossible. 

‘ ‘ You must have been mistaken about the window, ” 
she said, as she and the two policemen reached the 
hall. 

The man shook his head sullenly and obstinately. 

“Can’t say yet, ma’am,” he said shortly and, as it 
seemed to her, suspiciously. ‘ ‘ But, anyhow, he 
won’t get through the gates. We’ll have a regular 
cordon round the place before I’m an hour older, and 
we’ll starve him out like a rat in a hole.” 

Nanny’s heart sank. She thought that, in all proba- 
bility, Ralph was even now in custody at one or other 
of the gates — arrested in a vague attempt at escape. 
Even the gentlemen whom the constable had men- 
tioned, without giving their names, as being stationed 
at two of the gates, would not dare to connive at the 
escape of a man accused of murder. 

“ I’ll go as far as the gates with you ! ” cried Nanny 
suddenly, as the men were on the point of leaving the 
house. “I should like to know whether he’s been 
caught. ” 

She took the great front door key, locked the door, 
and ran down the steps after the policemen, who 
were making their way cautiously, hunting, search- 
ing at every step, towards the door in the wall by 
which they had entered. A subdued hubbub of voices 
met their ears as they drew near. Had they caught 
him already } poor Nanny asked herself. On reach- 
ing the door, however, they found that the voices 
were those of Dr. Blundell and of another policeman, 
whom his comrade’s whistle had attracted. No one 
had passed out by this gate, so Nanny, who kept in 
the background, not wishing to be seen by the doctor, 
heard them say. 

Then she and the two constables passed on to the 
principal gates, which were guarded by Charlie Barn- 
bridge. No one had passed out by this way either. 

There remained the north gate, which was in charge 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 285 

of a policeman whom Nanny knew by sight. This 
being the entrance farthest from that by which he had 
come into the grounds, would be, she feared, the one 
Ralph would choose for an attempt to pass out. She 
hung back as the two constables approached their 
comrade and asked if he had seen anyone. The 
answer made Nanny's heart beat madly with mingled 
joy and terror. 

“Nobody’s been by but Captain Ryder himself. 
He went out about ten minutes ago,” said the police- 
man, who knew the master of The Grange, but had 
heard nothing about his reputed absence from home. 

The constable who had found Ralph Ryder by the 
body of the murdered woman, being a Bicton man, 
did not know the Brent people, and had no suspicion 
of the identity of the murderer with the head of the 
Ryder family. The madman, with the strong instinct 
of self-preservation which he h^d already shown, had 
passed out boldly as if in search of the criminal. The 
policemen consulted together about details of the 
watch which was to be kept, without a suspicion that 
they had been tricked. 

A.S for Nanny, she returned to the house in a state 
of bewilderment at the cunning which Ralph had dis- 
played; It seemed to point to his having recovered 
the full use of his mental powers, a contingency 
which the poor child regarded with dread rather than 
with hope. For if his return to sanity were to involve 
not only forgetfulness of the crime he had committed, 
but the re-awakening of his love for herself, the diffi- 
culties before her would increase tenfold with the 
hideous explanations which would have to be made 
to him. Through all her recent troubles it had been 
Nanny’s small consolation that his affection for her- 
self was quite dead. In his madness it was only 
“Ellen” whom he remembered. 

In the meantime, where could he have gone } And 
what chance was there of his keeping out of the 
clutches of the police much longer 

It was with a shock of surprise that Nanny, on un- 


286 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


locking the front door to let herself in, came face to 
face with Meg. Not one word of awkward question- 
ing did that young woman, grown prudent by reason 
of her affection, utter to her sister. She only hurried 
her to her room, so that Nanny might quickly change 
her wet shoes ; and divining, on very slight sugges- 
tions, that young Mrs. Ryder did not wish to meet 
Dr. Blundell, Meg inteviewed that gentleman herself 
next day, when he called to see Valentine. 

Some words which the patient uttered, in the de- 
lirium of the fever which was upon him, increased 
the mystery of the tragedy at The White House. 
Discreet Mrs. Walters added a few more revelations, 
gathered in the same way. The result of this was 
that he became as anxious as Nanny or as Pickering 
to have an interview with old Mrs. Ryder, through 
whose ingenuity it was that the family secret had 
been kept so long. He intimated that wish to Meg, 
who was able to give hTm the old lady’s present address. 

“I am afraid,” continued the doctor) with a side- 
long, interrogative glance, “ that your sister was dis- 
turbed by some sort of ‘ row ’ there was in the neigh- 
bourhood last night.” , 

“ I shouldn’t wonder, doctor,” said Meg demurety. 
“To have a man-hunt going on in your house, and 
a cordon of police round it, is a little upsetting — until 
you're used to it. ” 

“ Oh, oh ! So you are in the secret ! ” 

“Only so far as painstaking eavesdropping can 
make me.” 

‘ ‘ And what have you learnt ? ” 

“Never to marry a man whom you haven’t known 
from your cradle, and then not unless you have satis- 
fied yourself that all his people, for three generations, 
have been Sunday-school teachers and regular com- 
municants.” 

The doctor laughed, but Meg had tears in her eyes : 
she only spoke jestingly to cover the bitterness which 
was in her heart. The doctor grew grave again im- 
mediately. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 287 

Your sister has not taken you into her confidence 
at all, has she ? he asked, 

“ No. The poor child is too proud to own that she 
has made a mistake.” 

“ I suppose you never heard any suggestion as to 
there being insanity in the family .? ” asked the doctor. 

“ No.” 

Yet my question does not surprise you .? ” 

“It would have done before last night, when I 
heard what sounded like a madman’s laugh as 1 came 
up the avenue.” 

‘ ‘ And you have some idea who the madman is 

‘ ‘ I would rather not answer that question yet. ” 

The doctor and the young girl exchanged glances 
of intelligence ; and the doctor went away with the 
warning that young Mrs. Ryder needed as much care 
as the fever-patient. 

Nanny remained in the house all that day, keeping 
as much by herself as possible, an inclination which 
Meg thought it best not to thwart. There could be 
little doubt that The Grange and its grounds were still 
being watched by the police, and Nanny thought it 
very likely that she might be followed if she went 
out, so that any attempt on her part to search for 
Ralph would bring him into danger. Towards even- 
ing, the parlour-maid came to Nanny, suffering like 
the rest of the household from panic, the result of the 
rumour that a murder had been committed in the 
neighbourhood, and that the murderer had been seen 
in The Grange grounds. 

“If you please, ma’am, Pickering wishes to know 
if he can see you for a few moments.” 

“Show him into the study,” said Nanny, and a 
minute later she hurried dotvn to see him. 

The old man looked haggard and anxious. 

“ You know,” began Nanny in a low voice, “that 
the body has been found .? ” 

The old man assented, and she went on : 

“Have they any idea yet who did it .?” 

“Not the slightest, ma'am,” he replied promptly. 


2^8 kALPII RYDER OF BRENT 

Nanny heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Did you see old Mrs. Ryder.?” was her nest 
question. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

‘ ‘ And — Lady Ellen .? ” 

Pickering hesitated. At last he admitted, with his 
eyes on the ground, that he had. 

“Together.?” asked Nanny sharply. 

Yes, ma’am. And you can see them together, 
too, if you will go round to the George Hotel in the 
High Street. And if I may make so bold to advise 
you, ma’am, insist upon knowing everything. I’ve 
said plain enough as how you ought to be told, and 
as how if you wasn’t told I’d tell you everything 
myself.” 

For a few minutes Nanny was dumb with excite- 
ment at the thought of the interview she would have 
to go through. Then she said in a whisper : 

“You know he has escaped .? ” Pickering signified 
assent. ‘ * Can you guess where he has gone .? ” 

“ He is at my cottage,” answered the old gardener 
in the lowest of whispers. Nanny started. He went 
on: “Don’t be frightened, ma’am. It’s the safest 
place he could choose. And he knows that, for he’s 
quite himself again. And when he’s had a shave, 
and his hair cut, and been smartened up, he’ll look as 
handsome a gentleman as ever ; and the policeman 
who saw him by the body, not knowing who he was, 
will never recognise him for the wild figure he must 
have looked then.” 

Nanny was trembling with excitement. 

“ At your cottage ! ” she repeated slowly. “Surely, 
surely he is not safe there ! ” 

“Yes, ma’am, he is; you needn’t trouble about 
that. The police are searching the house and 
grounds. They are ferreting out what they can for 
the inquest, which is put off till the day after to 
morrow, so as they may get what evidence they can 
first. So my place is just the last where they’d look. 
I have a bit of a cellar, too, where he can go if we’re 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 289 

hard pressed. It would be a shame for him to be 
caught now, after escaping all these years ! 

“ But what is to become of him ?” faltered Nanny. 

“Well, I think, ma’am, you’d better try to persuade 
the old lady herself to take charge of him. ” 

“Old Mrs. Ryder.?” 

“Yes, ma’am. It’s only fair she should, after all. 
And you know yourself, ma’am, there’s nothing in 
the world to fear from him when the fit’s off him.” 

“I will see Mrs. Ryder,” said Nanny, with an im- 
pulse of new energy. “You say she is at the George 
Hotel.? I will go at once.” 

Dismissing the old man, she ran upstairs and 
hurriedly dressed for her walk. She passed Meg on 
the stairs as she came down, but, as she gave no 
explanation of her movements, her sister asked no 
questions. 

It was five o’clock when Nanny reached The Grange 
gates. A thick fog had brought on the night prema- 
turely, and, as she could not see half a dozen yards 
in front of her, it was some time before she reached 
the High Street, where the little hotel was. On ask- 
ing for Mrs. Ryder, Nanny was told that “ the ladies 
were out.” She thought this was probably untrue, 
but, after inquiring which were the rooms occupied 
by Mrs. Ryder, she went away, saying that she 
would call again. Crossing the street in front of the 
hotel, Nanny then ascertained that the rooms indi- 
cated as Mrs. Ryder’s were lighted up, and that there 
were figures moving about in them. She could not 
doubt that they were those of Mrs. Ryder and of 
this Lady Ellen, who had been so carefully kept out 
of her way. If she could once come face to ^ face 
with the latter, Nanny felt that the mystery about 
her would dissolve. 

Rendered reckless by the disclosures of the last 
few days, Nanny decided, on the impulse of the 
moment, to brave her mother-in-law, and to have an 
interview with the concealed Lady Ellen with her will 
or against it. Recrossing the road, she slipped in 

19 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


290 

through the hotel door, passed through the quiet and 
still unlighted hall, and up the stairs. On the landing 
she stopped, hearing womens voices in conver- 
sation, and recognising- one as that of her mother- 
in-law. Stepping quickly to the door of the room 
whence the voices came, Nanny knocked softly on 
the panel. 

There was a hush in the talk, and Nanny heard the 
sound of women’s dresses brushing quickly against 
the furniture, and the soft closing of a door. Then 
old Mrs. Ryder let Nanny in. On seeing who her 
visitor was, she showed no surprise, but some con- 
fusion and annoyance. Nanny passed her, without 
waiting for an invitation to enter. • 

No one was in the room but old Mrs. Ryder. 

Seeing that there were folding-doors leading into 
another apartment, Nanny, who had given her mother- 
in-law only the curtest and coldest of greetings, pro- 
ceeded to cross the room quickly in that direction. 
Old Mrs. Ryder, with a sort of terror in her face, 
interposed her small person between the folding-doors 
and the tall form of her visitor, who seemed to have 
acquired an unwonted dignity during the days in 
which she had had to struggle alone with misfortune. 

“ What — what is the matter, Antonia ? ” asked the 
little old lady in an agitated voice. What do you 
want, my dear ? ” 

“ I want to see Lady Ellen, whom you have kept 
out of my way so carefully,” said Nanny. 

And avoiding, by a rapid spring on one side, the 
little pleading yellow hands, Nanny ran lightly across 
the intervening space and threw open the folding- 
doors. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


291 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

The fog, which was thick out of doors, had penetrated 
into the hotel bedroom, filling it with a murky dark- 
ness which quite overpowered the feeble illumination 
of a couple of candles on the dressing-table. As 
Nanny burst open the door, a woman, who had been 
standing by it, holding the handle in an attempt to 
keep it closed, sprang back into the middle of the 
bedroom as if afraid of personal violence on the part 
of the intruder. Nanny, with a few rapid steps, came 
up to her and examined the face of the shrinking 
woman with eager scrutiny. 

‘ ‘ Don’t be afraid, ” she said coldly, ‘ ‘ I am not going 
to hurt you. But you must answer my question : 
Are you Lady Ellen Ryder ? ” 

“ No — o,” answered the woman in a trembling 
voice. 

“ Did you ever go through a ceremony of marriage 
with Captain Ralph Ryder ? ” 

‘‘No ! Oh, no, no ! I don’t know anything about 
him — I don’t indeed ! Ask Mrs. Ryder.” 

And she appealed helplessly to the little old lady, 
who was now standing by Nanny’s side, her face 
wearing the scheming, calculating expression which 
her unhappy daughter-in-law knew so well. 

“ It is of no use to ask Mrs. Ryder, for I want to 
hear the truth,” said Nanny bitterly. 

“Well, I don’t know anything about it. Do, do 
take her away ! ” 

She turned appealingly to the old lady, who had 
watched this interview with bright, sharp eyes, and 
who now turned to the intruder with a little laugh. 

“ Are you satisfied .? ” she asked. 


292 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


** Of course I am not/' 

‘‘Will you come and hear what I have to say ?” 

Nanny hesitated, and, turning again towards the 
other woman, examined carefully every detail of her 
appearance, in order that she might retain a faithful 
impression on her memory. What she saw was a 
tall, thin woman, of middle age, very plainly dressed, 
with a faded complexion, light eyes, colourless hair, 
and no trace of former good looks. Could this be 
indeed the brilliant, heartless Lady Ellen who had 
broken her husband's heart, and driven him to insanity 
by her levity and coldness ? The only explanation 
which seemed possible to Nanny was that remorse 
had at last turned the woman’s own brain, and re- 
duced her to a helpless shadow of her former self, 
thus making her an easy prey to old Mrs. Ryder’s 
strong will. 

Perplexed and agitated, Nanny, with a last look at 
the shrinking woman, followed her mother-in-law into 
the outer room. The door closed, the younger worn an 
faced the elder with sudden passion. 

‘ ‘ Why can’t you be straightforward with me ? 
Why can’t you tell me the truth ? ” she cried, in a 
vibrating voice. “Why must you always torment 
me with unnecessary little mysteries ? Can’t you see 
that, since I have had the misfortune to enter your 
family, I am bound to keep its secrets ? ” 

“Misfortune!” echoed the old lady haughtily. 
“You should not have been in such a hurry to get 
married. You seem to forget that I did my best to 
prevent it.” 

This was true. Nanny, overwrought and despair- 
ing, felt that the tears were gathering in her eyes. 

“Well,” she said, in a low voice, “if I was foolish 
in marrying a man I knew very little about, at least 
I have had my punishment. You have not tried to 
make it any lighter. Your protege^ Valentine Eley, is 
at The Grange. You had better go there. Your 
staying here will only make people talk.” 

“ I did not know whether you would care to receive 


R ALP FI R YDER OF BRENT, 


293 

me there,” said Mrs. Ryder, in a tone in which a 
little compunction, a little shame, might have been 
noted. 

Nanny drew herself up with a sudden impulse of 
indignation. 

“ No, indeed. I would never again receive you in 
any home of mine. You have treated me too un- 
generously. I suggested your going to The Grange 
because it is not my home any longer. ” 

“Not your home ! What do you mean .? Where 
are you going } ” 

“ That,” said Nanny coldly, “is my affair.’^ 

“But you have no right to go away like that. I 
am surprised that a well-brought-up woman like you 
should think you can neglect your duty as soon as 
misfortune touches you ! ” cried old Mrs. Ryder, in 
much agitation. “Is that how you keep the vows 
of a wife .? ” 

“ But I am not your son's wife.” 

“You are my son's wife. I swear it.” 

“ Then who is the woman in the next room .? Who 
is Lady Ellen ? ” 

‘ ‘ The lady in the next room is my companion. 

Lady Ellen is ” She stopped, and seemed to 

debate with herself whether she should be straight- 
forward for once. But the habits of a lifetime were too 
strong, and she finished at last by saying petulantly : 
“ I know nothing about Lady Ellen.” 

Nanny shrugged her shoulders and walked to the 
door. She saw that she was only wasting her time 
with the prevaricating old lady, to whom the excite- 
mant of weaving a web of irritating little mysteries 
filled the place which religion and active philanthropy 
occupy in the minds of other elderly women. Going 
out of the room and down the stairs without another 
moment's delay, Nanny was on the doorstep when, 
having followed with an activity which a girl of 
eighteen could not have exceeded, her mother-in-law 
detained her with a strong grip. 

“ Wait, wait,” she said in a rapid whisper. “ Do 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


294 

nothing rash or hasty, I beg you, T implore you ! 
Listen. I know my son better than you do. Listen, 
listen.” For Nanny moved impatiently, anxious to 
getaway. “Only wait quietly till Dan’s return ” 

“Return! No. That is just what I cannot wait 
for, "burst out Nanny passionately. “That is just why 
I am going away as quickly as 1 can. It is of no use 
trying to deceive me. I know the truth from Picker- 
ing. I am tied to a homicidal lunatic who had a wife 
living when he married me. I ' know he will return 
home cured and ignorant of what he has done. But 
do you think I can forget it Forget what I saw in 
the bricked-up room Forget the dying cry of the 
woman he murdered .? If he were my husband, I 
would stay — in spite of everything. But he is the 
husband of Lady Ellen ; it is her dut)^ not mine. ” 

She had stood quite still while she poured these 
words fiercely, passionately, into the ears of the old 
lady. But when she had finished, without giving the 
latter a chance of replying, she wrenched her 
arm from the little claw-like hand, and disappeared 
quickly into the fog. 

The atmosphere was so thick that Nanny, who had 
never been inside the hotel before, forgot that she 
had come out by the side door ; and, imagining her- 
self to be in the High Street, she turned to the left 
and ran straight on. She was too much agitated to 
find out her mistake ; she could see the lights glaring 
in the shops on either side, she could hear the shouts 
of men in charge of carts, some of whom got down 
and led their horses. Then the shops ended, sooner 
than she had expected, and it flashed through her mind 
that she must have come much faster than she had 
thought. The hill, which came next, did not seem as 
steep as usual. Still she ran on, and, at the first 
turning, turned to the left, meaning to take a back 
street past the station, where there were shops, the 
lights of which would guide her. 

Instead of reaching these shops, however, Nanny 
found herself, after passing three or four blocks of 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


295 

houses, in an open road, with a hedge on each side. 
She stopped short, feeling rather frightened, knowing 
that she had lost her way, and having been too 
much occupied by her own thoughts to remember 
how this had come about. Therefore, not knowing 
that her very first step had been wrong, she imagined 
that she must be in the right direction, and walked 
straight on. But the hedges grew thinner and more 
straggling, until one broke off altogether, and there 
loomed before her suddenly the gaunt branches of a 
cluster of tall trees. She took a few steps more, and 
then her heart seemed to stand still with horror : she 
was close under the wall of the grounds of the White 
House. 

This was the back wall of the plantation, she knew. 
By skirting it, she would reach an avenue which led, 
past Pickering's cottage, to the highroad. It was 
horrible to have to remain so long in the vicinity of 
the scene of the tragedy ; but she dared not return by 
the way she had come, not being sure of the road. 
So she ran as fast as she could, reached the bend of 
the wall out of breath, and turned the corner so 
sharply that one foot came in contact with the fallen 
branch of a tree, which caused her to stumble and 
fall. On raising herself from the ground, Nanny dis- 
covered that she had hurt her ankle, the pain being so 
great as to reduce her pace to a limping walk. The 
road at this end of the avenue was very bad, being, 
indeed, a slough in wet weather and a succession of 
hard ruts in dry. It was now in the former condition ; 
and as trees overhead and fog all around made a 
choice of path impossible, Nanny floundered on 
through the mud, occasionally putting out her hands 
to save herself from abrupt contact with the wall or 
the trunk of a tree. 

She seemed to have gone a long way in this fashion, 
when Suddenly she came upon the door in the wall 
which led into the grounds and to Pickering’s cottage. 
The knowledge that she was near the place where 
Ralph was concealed filled her, upon the instant, with 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


296 

a longing to see whether he was safe, to look on his 
face once more before she went away. The door 
was securely fastened on the inside, however, and 
she had no means of getting in. Nevertheless she 
lingered, and presently fancied that she caught 
a sound as of someone moving about on the other 
side of the high wall. She listened intently, keeping 
perfectly quiet herself, and presently she heard the 
sound repeated. These noises were so slight, so in- 
termittent, that she conceived the idea that they must 
proceed from Ralph. There was no reason why 
Pickering should move about in this stealthy fashion ; 
so that it could hardly be he, she said to herself. So 
strong did this belief grow, that she was on the point 
of calling to him softly by name, when suddenly she felt 
a hand placed over her mouth, and her person 
dragged rapidly away from the door. Her assailant 
had approached so quietly that his footsteps, even to 
her intently-listening ears, had been entirely inaudible. 
She began to struggle violently in the endeavour to 
free herself, when she perceived by the cuff of his 
coat that it was a policeman who had seized her ; 
guessing that he was on the track of the fugitive, 
therefore, she ceased both to struggle and to attempt 
to cry out. At the same moment the policeman, hav- 
ing taken her some yards away from the door, spoke' 
in a low whisper. 

“ Beg pardon, ma’am, but I have orders to watch 
this place. I hear something going on inside, and if 
you was to cry out or fumble at the door, it would put 
’em on the look-out at once. Asking your pardon, 
ma’am, and sorry if I’ve hurt you,” ended the man, 
who did not recognize Nanny as the mistress of The 
Grange. 

As they were standing now, the policeman had 
his back to the door, while Nanny could see it over 
his shoulder. Perceiving that the door opened a 
little, she hastened to enter into conversation with 
the policeman in order to keep his attention di- 
verted. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


297 

‘‘What are you watching the place for?” she 
asked. “Are not these the grounds of The White 
House } ” 

In spite of herself, she felt that her voice faltered 
on the last words. For even as she spoke, the 
door opened a little further, and Ralph Ryder himself 
peeped out. 

“I thought,” went on Nanny incoherently, not 
caring what she said as long as she kept the police- 
man from looking behind him, “ that the tramp who 
murdered the woman had been caught already ! ” 

“No, miss,” said the man; he’s not been caught 
yet. And we ain’t so sure it’s “a tramp, neither.” 

The suspicious dryness of the man’s tone might 
have alarmed Nanny at any other time. Now, how- 
ever, all she cared for was that he should go on 
talking. For she saw, through the fog, Ralph’s face, 
haggard with anxiety and bearing the furtive look of 
a hunted man, as he stepped out among the trees of 
the lane and crossed the cart-track, becoming in a 
moment a mere shadow in the thick mist under the 
hedge. 

“Perhaps, then,” suggested Nanny, “the poor 
woman threw herself out of the window she was 
found under.” 

The man smiled, with a little supercilious, official 
smile, turning as he did so again towards the door. 
In an instant he was on the alert, perceiving the door 
to have been opened ; and Nanny took advantage of 
his action, as he ran back, to limp along towards 
the highroad, for it was in the opposite direction that 
Ralph had gone. Having taken a few steps, she 
stopped, partly because the pain of her ankle was 
great, and partly because she feared the policeman 
might suspect her connivance at the escape. As she 
turned she saw the figure of Ralph gliding rapidly away 
among the trees until he was lost to sight in the fog. 
Then she returned to the open door, at which the 
policeman Avas standing with a perplexed expression. 

“I think you’d better go away, ma’am,” said he 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


298 

rather gruffly. “YouVe done enough mischief. 
Along o' my talking to you, it looks precious like as 
if he’d got away. That door was locked on the in- 
side ! ” 

He stared up and down the lane as he blew his 
whistle ; and Nanny, glad not to be called upon for 
an explanation, mumbled some words of apology 
and then went on her way. She was very uneasy, 
guessing as she did that there must be more police 
on the look-out, from whom even the astuteness 
Ralph had so far shown might not enable him to 
escape. Of course he would go to The Grange, true 
to the instinct which always led him to his old home. 
But this dodging of the police from the one place to 
the other and back again could not long be practised 
with success. It seemed to Nanny to be a proof of 
the insanity from which Pickering declared him to 
have recovered. 

The poor little lady was full of miserable doubt. 
If his mental balance was restored, she must leave 
him, for she was not his wife. And even if, through 
the machinations of his mother or Lady Ellen, he had 
believed himself free when he married her, yet there 
remained against him the fact that he had done her 
an unpardonable wrong in marrying her when he 
knew that he was subject to periodical attacks of 
insanity of the most violent kind. If, on the other 
hand, he had not yet recovered his reason, it would 
be her duty to remain with him until his personal 
safety was assured. 

The avenue seemed miles long to Nanny, who 
could now find her way with difficulty in the dark- 
ness of a foggy night. At last she reached the high- 
road, and, turning to the left, passed the desolate- 
looking front of the White House on her way towards 
Bicton Pligh Street. It was a slow and tedious walk. 
Nanny hoped that she might be overtaken on the 
way by a small railway omnibus, which ran between 
Bicton and the nearest town. But the only vehicles 
which passed her were two builder’s carts, following 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


199 

each other at a sn ail's pace, while the drivers, walk- 
ing beside their horses, shouted alternately as a 
warning to approaching passengers. 

When the first shops were reached, with their 
lighted windows, her journey became less hazardous. 
And here, on the opposite side of the way, she 
caught sight of something which gave her a faint 
suggestion of hope > and comfort. It was Dr. Blun- 
dell’s brougham, drawing up in front of the garden 
wall of one of the few remaining large houses of the 
town. She hobbled across the road, and intercepted 
the doctor as he was passing through the gate. He 
at once noticed her halting gait. 

“Yes, I have hurt my ankle. But it is not that. 
I want to speak to you — I must ! " 

He saw the deep anxiety in her face, and his heart 
went out to her, knowing as he did something of the 
troubles which surrounded her. He helped her 
gently into his brougham, and went into the house, 
telling her that he should not be long gone. In a 
few minutes he returned, his visit over, and directed 
his coachman to drive to The Grange. 

“Doctor,” she began, as soon as they had started, 

‘ ‘ I heard to-day that you were present when the man 
was found beside Mrs. Durrant's body. Tell me — 
who was the man } ” 

“Well, really, Mrs. Ryder, it was quite dark, you 
know — an d ” 

“ That is enough. I see. Then it was my 
husband } ” 

The doctor saw that the truth would give her no 
shock of surprise. 

“I am afraid it was,” he said in a low voice. 

“You think he killed her .? ” 

“His own words condemned him.” 

“You know that he is at times not responsible for 
his actions .? ” 

As Dr. Blundell did not answer, she repeated the 
question. 

“lam afraid I cannot agree with you,” he said. 


300 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


“Then why,” said Nanny, struggling successfully 
to repress her emotion, ‘ ‘ should he kill her ? ” 

Again the doctor hesitated to tell her exactly what 
he thought. 

“You think she held some secret of his } ” 

“It is possible,” said the doctor guardedly. 

Nanny laughed bitterly. 

“ Well, so she did,” she admitted. “Dr. Blundell, 
you know all the people about here ; you know Mrs. 
Calverley. Has she never told you anything about 
me and —my — my — husband ? ” 

“She has made certain suggestions which I par- 
ticularly warned her not to repeat, as they were 
libellous.” 

“But they were true, I think. This Lady Ellen, 
whom she must have told you about as having been 
my husband’s first wife, is alive.” 

‘ ‘ Are you sure of this } ” 

“ She is staying at the George Hotel here with Mrs. 
Ryder. I saw them to-day. - But neither will admit or 
explain anything. They have nearly driven me mad. ” 

“What nonsense! They must explain. I know 
old Mrs. Ryder, and her little stories and mystifica- 
tions. She is, I am sorry to say, a very dangerous 
old lady.” 

He was looking out of the carriage-window on the 
left, and he suddenly pulled the check-string, and 
opened the door as the brougham stopped. 

“Now,” said he, “you wait here while I have a 
‘ go-in ’ with the old lady. ” 

He ran into the hotel, but quickly came out again, 
and, just calling out “ Now to The Grange ! ” jumped 
into the brougham. 

“ The ladies have paid their bill and left,” he ex- 
plained, “ and the Boots says they directed the cab- 
man to drive to The Grange.” 

‘ ‘ dlien I would rather not go back there. I don’t 
want to meet them again. They won’t tell me any- 
thing,” cried poor Nanny, shrinking back into her 
corner. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


301 


“They shall tell us something, or bundle out!’" 
cried the doctor indignantly. ‘ ‘ Look here, Mrs. Ryder ; 
you are much too brave a lady to be cowed by an 
adventuress and an old woman. Take my word for 
it, this Lady Ellen will turn out to be no wife at all, and 
Captain Ryder’s little indiscretion — let us call it — will 
never be found out.” 

“ The murder.? ” cried Nanny in a hissing whisper. 

“Say indiscretion. It sounds much better. If 
he is mad. or if he allows himself to be taken. I’ll eat 
my head.” 

“But ” 

“But listen. I went into the station just now to 
get a paper, a few minutes before you came up. And 
just outside I met your husband. Captain Ryder, walk- 
ing towards The Grange with a cigar in his mouth.” 

“Then he got past the police all right,” murmured 
Nanny below her breath. 

“ I could not help an exclamation of surprise,” went 
on the doctor ; “ but he took it very coolly. He said 
he had just come back from a yachting cruise, and 
asked if there was any news. I told him about the 
murder of Mrs. Durrant, and he affected not even to 
have heard of it, but suggested at once that the brother 
had done it. I felt, I must own, rather disgusted, 
and I came away. But I have not the slightest doubt 
that he will carry the thing off with a bold front, and 
that nobody but you and me and Charley Bambridge 
will ever know by whose hand the poor woman really 
came to her death.” 

The brougham stopped at The Grange gates. The 
doctor got out, and helped Nanny to do so, and they 
passed through into the grounds together, she sup- 
ported by his arm. 

“There!” exclaimed the doctor in a whisper as 
they came in sight of the house, and heard Captain 
Ryder whistling softly to himself as he stood on the 
doorstep waiting for admittance. “ Does that ^^3-^ 
look like a murderer going in fear of the police ? ” 


302 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


CHAPTER XXV. 

On hearing her husband’s voice, Nanny, still leaning 
on Dr. Blundell’s arm, stopped short in the middle of 
the avenue. 

“Doctor,” she whispered, “I must go in alone. 
No one can help me in that explanation which he and 
I must have. I know it, I feel it, now that I hear his 
voice again. If — if I go away, ” and her voice faltered, 
and the tears began to come, “I will call on you 
to-morrow before 1 go. Thank you very, very much 
for what you have done.” 

“That is little enough; I wish I could have done 
more for you, Mrs. Ryder. But I think you are right 
to depend entirely on yourself if you can. At the 
same time, we mustn’t forget this ankle of yours. I 
must see what is wrong with that before I leave you. 
That, however, won’t take long. ” 

By this time Captain Ryder had disappeared into 
the house ; but, before shutting the door, the servant 
who had let him in perceived the doctor and her mis- 
tress, and notified their arrival. Nanny shrank back 
as her husband ran down the steps towards her. 
Captain Ryder, on seeing who her companion was, 
however, suppressed his emotion, and exchanged a 
cold greeting with the doctor. 

“Mrs. Ryder has hurt her ankle, I fear,” said Dr. 
Blundell. 

“ How did you do that, Nanny ?” asked Captain 
Ryder, in a rather constrained voice. 

He had already been sharp-sighted enough to notice 
that her greeting of himself was nervous and uneasy. 

“ It was in the fog — I turned my foot on a stone,” 
she said. “ It is nothing, — notViing indeed, Ralph.” 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT, 


303 

He glanced at her quickly. Why did she not use 
his pet name? the look said. They all entered the 
house together, and Captain Ryder opened the door 
of the dining-room, which was the nearest apartment. 
Here Dr. Blundell examined the injured foot, assured 
himself that the sprain was not a very severe one, 
and applied a cold-water bandage to the ankle, giving 
directions for its renewal to Captain Ryder, who 
undertook to continue the treatment with his own 
hands. 

The solicitude which Captain Ryder showed for his 
wife, the wistful, jealous tenderness with which he 
hung on the back of her chair, watching every move- 
ment of the doctor's hands in his anxious wish 
to become as deft as he, softened the latter a little 
towards him. But still it was with some constraint 
that the doctor made his farewell, shaking hands 
only with Mrs. Ryder. 

Then Nanny was left alone, while her husband 
escorted Dr. Blundell to the door. Regardless of the 
injunction to keep her foot on the low arm-chair which 
had been brought forward for the purpose, she sprang 
up, and stood irresolute between the fire and the door, 
torn with conflicting impulses. On the one hand her 
heart, touched, melted, utterly subdued by the glimpse 
she had had of the old love which had been so dear 
to her, cried out that he was her husband, that he 
loved her, that nothing else in the world mattered at 
all to her. On the other hand, she knew absolutely 
that another woman, claiming to be his wife, was 
actually at that moment in the house, that he had 
deceived her, that he was a murderer. Should she 
stay, and have now with him that terrible, crucial 
interview which she so much dreaded? Or should 
she try tp escape it, for the present at least, and, 
foregoing his caresses, forego also those terrible ques- 
tions which she saw in his ^ eyes, questions which 
demanded that the whole truth should be dragged 
out from her in her unwilling answers ? 

While she yet hesitated, the time for choice was 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


304 

over. Captain Ryder’s step sounded in the hall, nis 
hand was on the door. With one rapid glance her 
eyes took in the whole scene around her. As if she 
had been looking at a picture, she saw the red fire 
reflected in the tiles of the hearth, the lamplight shin- 
ing on the embossed paper, the ferns, the glittering 
glass on the white tablecloth. Then, with a throbbing 
heart, she felt Ralph’s arms round her, and knew, 
without one look into his face, that her love was 
stronger than her own will. 

‘ ‘ Ralph ! My husband ! ” she panted out, between 
her set teeth, with such a wild impulse of passion 
that he seized her face in his hand and turned it towards 
the light with a look almost of fear. 

‘‘ Child ! My Nanny, you have been frightened — 
you have been ill ! What is this change in you, my 
wife } Tf I had been away four y fears instead of four 
days, the change in you could not have been greater ! 
Tell me, my darling, what is it .? ” 

But Nanny could not answer. She was crying her 
very heart out on his breast. For a long time his 
utmost efforts to soothe her availed nothing. Fie 
made her sit down in the wide chair by the fire from 
which she had risen, and with loving whispers, gentle 
caresses, and soft reproaches for her tearful welcome, 
bade her confide in him the cause of this violent 
distress. 

‘ ‘ Nanny, Nanny, ” he whispered with playful gravity, 
which only half concealed the deepest concern, ‘ ‘ this 
is insubordination to your superior officer. I shall 
have to put you under arrest — I shall indeed, my dear 
— lest the disaffection should spread in the ranks. ” 

“Oh, Dan, Dan,” cried Nanny, finding a remnant 
of voice half choked by sobs, and clinging tightly to 
his arm, ‘ ‘ take me away ! Let us go away some- 
where, at once, quite quietly, and forget. Take me, 
take me, or I shall die, Dan ! Don’t ask me why — 
don’t ask me anything ; only take me away.” 

“But, my darling, why is it.? Won’t you tell me 
why it is ? ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENl. 


305 

“No, no. Don’t let us have any questions — any 
explanations. If we don’t go now, and slip out of 
the house at once, your mother will come in, and ” 

‘ ‘ My mother ! ’’ interrupted Captain Ryder, in a 
harder voice, as he sprang up from the floor, on which 
he had been kneeling. “Is she here } She has been 
making mischief again, then, I suppose. It’s very 
astonishing that no old lady can live without that 
occupation. Now, what has she been telling you ” 

Nanny was alarmed by the alteration in him. All 
affection had gone out of his face and voice. He was 
looking down at her with a frown. 

“It is nothing — nothing that she has said,” faltered 
Nanny. “ It is what she has not said, what she will 
not say. She has brought with her Lady Ellen.” 

‘ ‘ Lady Ellen ! ” 

Nanny gazed up at him, full of passionate interest 
and anxiety. For, as he slowly repeated the name,' 
he seemed to be searching in his mind for some half- 
forgotten recollections suggested by it. 

‘ ‘ They are coming — they are coming in here ! ” 
cried Nanny in great excitement, as she rose and 
clasped her hands round one of his arms. “Tell 
them — no, tell me, Dan, that / am your wife ! ” 

Before Captain Ryder could recover from the be- 
wilderment into which her appeal evidently threw 
him, the door was opened by old Mrs. Ryder, who 
started back and abruptly broke off the remarks she 
was addressing to her companion. 

“Ralph ! Antonia ! ” she cried in surprise and con- 
fusion. “I — I thought you were in — I — I mean, I 
didn’t know you were back, Ralph.” 

Her companion, , less bold, had hastily retreated on 
catching sight of the occupants of the room. The old 
lady, however, recovered her self-possession almost 
immediately, and held out her arms towards her son, 
apparently not at all disturbed by the frown of anger 
and annoyance on his face. 

“My dear boy,” she said, with a side-glance at 
Nanny, whose tears had left very evident traces, “I 
20 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


306 

am indeed glad to see you back again. The little 
wife here told me you had appointed no day for your 
return, so that she did not know when to expect you. 
And such a fright as the poor child has had ! ” ran on 
the cunning old lady, retaining with one hand the 
fingers of her son, while she raised the other with an 
expression of horror. “Just think, my dear boy, a 
murder in the neighbourhood — in the grounds of The 
White House, too ! Did she tell you about it.? 

“No, but I have heard of it — Dr. Blundell told me,’' 
said Ralph, still rather icy, but carried away by the 
flowing stream of his mother s talk. 

‘ ‘ Wasn’t it shocking .? The work of a poor maniac, 
who found his way to the grounds here, so that Nanny 
was disturbed by the police in the night ! Now, what 
do you think of that.?” 

“ I think the whole business wants inquiring into,” 
said Ralph, without enthusiasm. 

“ I should think so, indeed,” she assented warmly. 

As she was speaking, Nanny, still holding her 
husband’s arm, took a step forward. 

“The lady who was with you,” she said in a high, 
tremulous voice, — “where is she.? Why didn’t she 
come in .? ” 

“Oh, she is only my companion. She did not 
want to intrude upon what she saw was a family meet- 
ing,” said old Mrs. Ryder, with a sharp look. 

“ But it would have been more of a family meeting 
if she had come in, wouldn’t it .? ” asked Nanny, in 
the same tone as before. 

Her mother-in-law drew in her lips rather spitefully, 
but, before she had time to reply, Ralph spoke 
abruptly : 

“ Never mind her now. Let us have something to 
eat. I should like a little conversation with you 
presently, mother — after dinner.” 

The old lady agreed, but it was evident that his 
abrupt manner made her feel nervous. He turned at 
once from her to Nanny.* 

“ My dear,” he said, his voice altering at once, “I 


kALPtl R YDER OF BRENT. 


307 

think you had better not move, for the sake of your 
foot. We will excuse your dressing for dinner.” 

“ But I must, my skirt is damp, I should feel un- 
comfortable like this, ’ eagerly protested Nanny, who 
had reached the door. 

She was afraid of his discovering, without prepa- 
ration, the presence in the house of Valentine Eley, of 
whom he had always expressed a strong dislike. So, 
finding that she would not yield, Ralph made her lean 
on his arm, and led her slowly upstairs. She, mean- 
while, was debating with herself how best to break to 
him the story of Valentine’s coming. She was in a 
fever of doubt, of perplexity. At one moment Ralph’s 
calmness of manner, and the answering emotions 
which his tenderness had awakened within her, almost 
persuaded her that her eyes and ears had deceived 
her, and that he was innocent of all the charges 
brought against him. An instant later, however, 
reason spoke again, and overwhelmed in its cold 
waters all the suggestions made by her affection. At 
last, overcome by her doubts, her fears, and her de- 
spair, she uttered a low cry, which pierced her hus- 
band’s heart. He bent down over her solicitously, 
and began : 

“My dearest, does it hurt you so badly.? Am I 
going too fast .? ” 

These words, however, were scarcely out of his 
mouth, when she felt that he was seized by a terrible 
shock, which communicated itself to her, and set her 
trembling violently. She looked up quickly into his 
face, and saw there an expression which in a moment 
destroyed the vague hopes which she had, in spite of 
her judgment, begun to allow herself to entertain. 
For it was the wild, helpless stare of the man to whom 
the air is haunted by phantoms, illusions of his own 
brain, the look of the face which had appeared to her 
at the study-window on the previous night. 

“Oh, Ralph, Ralph,” she whispered hoarsely, 

‘ ‘ what is it .? What do you see .? ” 

For answer he suddenly seized her head with his 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


308 

right hand, and forced it down to the handrail of the 
banisters. She felt his breath hot against her ear as 
he said : 

‘‘Look — down there. What do you see.? What 

do you see .? ” 

Nanny could see nothing whatever. A ghastly fear 
had seized her lest, in the apparent return of his mad- 
ness, he was about to make her the third victim of 
his homicidal mania. She did not cry out — indeed, 
she could not ; but she clung with all her might to the 
railing, crouching over it, and trying to form with her 
dry lips a prayer that he would spare her. Before 
she could regain command of her tongue, his grip 
suddenly relaxed, and he repeated his words in a 
calmer tone : 

“What do you see, Nanny.?” 

Without another glance at him, she bent her head 
down over the banisters, and peered into the hall 
beneath obediently. 

“I see nothing, Ralph,” she whispered tremulously. 

‘ ‘ What — what do you see .? ” 

But at first he made no answer. She ventured, per- 
ceiving that he had grown calmer, to glance timidly 
at his face again. He looked bewildered, like a man 
who had just woke from a nightmare-haunted sleep. 

“I see nothing either — now,” saidheslowly. Then, 
seeing the alarmed expression on Nanny’s face, he 
tried to laugh the matter off. “ I am tired and stupid, 
and as fanciful as a sick child,” he added. “I am 
afraid I frightened you, darling.” 

Nanny affected to be reassured by his words, but 
she saw that he hung behind her, peering into the 
dark corners of the hall. When they reached the bed- 
room, he put her gently down into a chair, rang the bell 
for her maid, and went into the dressing-room. But 
Nanny heard him pass softly by the second door on 
to the landing, and go downstairs. She suddenly 
remembered that she had found no opportunity to tell 
him about Valentine’s being in the house. In the 
state of mind in which he now was, hovering as it 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


309 

seemed between sanity and insanity, the danger 
attending a sudden discovery of that kind would be 
even greater than she had feared. She limped as far 
as the door, but on opening it found herself face to 
face with her maid, who detained her by offers of 
assistance, being in great distress at her mistress’s 
lameness and at the terrible pallor of her face. 

‘‘I am quite well, Jane,” said Nanny trying to 
smile. “The pain is not so great as you think, and 
I must go down to speak to Captain Ryder.” 

“Let me fetch him, ma’am ! ” cried the girl eagerly. 

And her mistress was constrained to let her go on 
this errand. As soon as the girl had reached the 
bottom of the stairs, however, Nanny was out again 
in the gallery, wondering where Ralph could be, and 
what sort of greeting Jane would get from him. She 
was leaning on the balustrade, when she heard foot- 
steps behind her, and before she could turn, there 
came a whisper close in her ear : 

‘ ‘ I am afraid to meet Captain Ryder. What had 
I better do .? ” 

Nanny could not repress a sharp cry. Stepping 
quickly back, she saw that the whisperer was Valentine 
himself, looking ill indeed, but considerably less 
infirm than he had seemed a few hours before. Meg 
and Mrs. Walters, the nurse, stood a little distance 
away, watching this interview with some appre- 
hension. 

“He would get up, ma'am,” said the nurse, “as 
soon as I told him the Captain was about. There 
was no way of keeping him quiet. And he’s not as 
bad as what he looks,” she added, in a low voice, as 
she got closer to Nanny, while Meg uttered another 
remonstrance to the patient. 

“ Here he comes!” cried Valentine, in a voice of 
terror. ‘ ‘ Where shall I go 

“ Back into your room ! ’’ cried Nanny, in a frenzy 
of fear lest the two men should meet. 

She thought, as her blood seemed to run cold in her 
veins, that the sight of the brother of the woman he 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


310 

had killed might excite Ralph to a fresh outbreak, and ‘ 
Valentine’s hysterical utterances would only serve to 
exasperate him further . 

Unluckily, Captain Ryders ears, as he entered the 
hall below from one of the corridors, caught the sound 
of a man’s voice, and being in a state of uneasy and 
restless suspicion, he ascended the stairs in a few 
bounds, and saw the door of the spare room occupied 
by Valentine close. There was just enough of conscious 
guilt in the faces of all three women to make him sure 
that something was being kept from him. 

‘‘Who went in there ” he asked sharply. 

There was ever so slight a pause before Nanny 
tried to speak, but it was enough for Ralph. 

“ I heard a man’s voice. Who was it } ” he asked. 

Then he very quietly crossed the gallery to, the door, 
and was on the point of opening it when Nanny, 
hurrying like a hare to meet him, laid her cold fingers 
upon his hands. 

“ It is a man, Ralph,” she said. “ A man who is 
ill with a fever, brought on by exposure and — and 
grief. Listen ! and I will tell you all about it.” 

The nurse had disappeared, afraid of a “ scene,” 
and discreetly anxious to have no part in it. Meg, in 
alarm for her sister, remained a little way off with hands 
clenched, ready to fly at Captain Ryder’s throat if, in 
his mad anger, he should attempt to hurt Nanny. 
In the dead silence she heard the poor wife’s laboured 
breath, as the latter tried to steady herself for her recital, 
and to choose the most persuasive words for it. 

Before, however, she had done more than clear 
her throat in preparation, Ralph maintaining an awful 
silence, the door was burst open in their faces, and 
Valentine, with a hectic flush on his face, stood pant- 
ing before them. 

“ It is I, Captain Ryder,” he said, in a low, thick 
voice. He did not look like a man, Meg thought, 
watching him from the background. He looked like 
a frightened wild beast, seeking a way of escape from 
danger. “ I’ve come here because it’s upon the 


RALPH P YDER OF BRENT. 3 1 1 

people in this house that I have the greatest claim to 
compassion, on account of the death of my sister. I 
don’t wish to say anything unpleasant, or to hurt 
anyone’s feelings. But I must be helped, of course. 
And if you don’t understand why, ask your mother ; 
she is in the house, and she will uphold what I say. 
Ask her.” 

“ I shall ask my mother nothing, answered Captain 
Ryder slowly, in the coldest, most decided of tones. 
‘‘I shall ask you to remove yourself out of this house 
immediately.” 

“ Ralph, Ralph, take care. He is ill. And — and 
take care ! ” sobbed out poor Nanny, who noted the 
menacing look in Valentine’s eyes. 

The young man laughed shrilly. 

“ Don’t interfere on my account, Mrs. Ryder,” said 
he in an ironical tone. “ I can take my own part, 
and, what is more, I can get the law to back me up. 
I’m going. I’m going, Captain Ryder. Just let me have 
two minutes to put on my own clothes.” 

He disappeared into the room he had occupied, and 
husband and wife were left facing each other. Nanny 
tried to utter some feeble expostulations, but Ralph 
seemed not to hear. Meg, in the meantime, had slipped 
swiftly past them, and gone downstairs to summon old 
Mrs. Ryder. She found that lady in the drawing-room, 
with her bonnet and mantle on. Before Meg could 
declare her errand, the old lady, who had taken a 
strong dislike to one whose interference she feared, at 
once addressed her. 

“You will be kind enough to tell my son and his 
wife, ’’she began, with a glance at her mysterious com- 
panion, who was standing trembling behind her, “ that 
I cannot remain in a house where ” 

Meg nodded, and cut her short. 

“Come upstairs,” she said abruptly. “Your son 
IS quarrelling with Valentine Eley. I don’t know if 
you can do any good, but you can try.” 

But it was too late. The old lady, with a face 
blanched to a death-like whiteness, followed Meg into 


3^2 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT 


the hall. They were just in time to hear Valentine's 
last words as, now safely out of Captain Ryder's 
reach, he ran across the hall to the front door. 

“ Yes, I’m going, I’m going,” he cried, with an- 
other shrill laugh. “ But you had better have kept 
me under your eye, for I shall go straight to the 
police-station, and if I don’t get the distinguished 
Ralph Ryder locked up by to-morrow night my name 
isn’t Valentine Eley.” 

Meg kept her eyes fixed upon the little old lady. 
At first the latter seemed turned to stone, but the noise 
made by the front door as Valentine slammed it be- 
hind him roused her into life and activity. She crossed 
the hall after him almost as quickly and lightly as a 
bird, and, following in his steps, disappeared into the 
darkness outside. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


313 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

The cold night-air blew in through the front-door, 
which old Mrs. Ryder, in her pursuit of Valentine 
Eley, had left open behind her. Meg crossed the hall, 
shut the door, drew the bolts, and turned the key. 
Then she ran upstairs to the gallery. 

Nanny and her husband were still there — the former 
sitting, in a scarcely more than half-conscious con- 
dition, on the ottoman under the window ; while the 
latter stood some distance away, leaning over the 
balustrade. Meg felt afraid of him, as she glanced 
up and saw that the expression of his face was angry 
and hard. He did not seem to see her, or to hear his 
wife’s voice whispering faintly to her. 

‘^Come to your room, Nanny,” said her sister. 
“You are ill, dear, and you ought not to be sitting 
out here in the cold. Let me help you along ; put 
your arm in mine. That’s right.” 

She glanced, as she spoke, towards Captain Ryder, 
thinking that these words would bring him to his 
wife’s assistance. But he did not move. The two 
ladies, the one leaning on the other, passed close 
behind him, without his giving the slightest sign 
that he was conscious of their presence. Just as they 
reached the bedroom-door, Meg, turning with a last 
glance in his direction, saw him go slowly downstairs. 

Jane, the maid, scurried quickly away from the 
keyhole when she heard the ladies approaching, and 
was discovered busy at the dressing-table when they 
came in. Her face, however, betrayed the intense 
interest with which she had listened to such scraps of 
the conversation in the gallery as had reached her 
ears. 


314 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


“You won’t change your dress to-night, will you, 
Nanny ? ” asked Meg, glancing at^ a pretty frock of 
gray brocade with steel trimming which Jane had put 
out. 

“Yes, yes, I will,” said Nanny, as, with a sudden 
change to feverish energy, she began to hurry Jane’s 
movements. “Go, go, Meg, and get ready for dinner. 
The bell will ring in a minute.” 

Meg left the room, and met her sister a few minutes 
later on her way to the dining-room. 

“Have you seen Ralph.?” asked Nanny, looking 
about her rather anxiously. 

“ He went downstairs, dear, just as I opened the 
door of your room.” 

At that moment the second dinner-bell rang. When 
they reached the drawing-room door, Nanny stopped. 

“ I know old Mrs. Ryder has gone,” she whispered. 
“Do you know,” she went on in a faltering voice, 
“ whether the — the lady who was with her has gone 
too .? ” 

Meg shook her head. 

“I don’t know,” she said; “1 didn’t see her go. 
But I don’t suppose she would stay without her friend. ” 

However, on entering the drawing-room, they saw 
the supposed Lady Ellen, in her walking-dress, sitting 
on a chair close to the door, with an expression of 
pathetically helpless anxiety on her face. She rose 
as they came in, and stood before them so nervously, 
so humbly, that she disarmed hostility. 

“I am afraid you look upon me' as an intruder, 
Mrs. Ryder,” she said in an apologetic tone. “But 
I am old Mrs. Ryder’s paid companion ; I have to 
accompany her wherever she pleases. I am only 

waiting for her return to go away. And ” She 

hesitated a moment, and then added quickly. “And, 
indeed, I am not the person vou suppose.” 

“Yet you drew back just now, instead of meeting 
Captain Ryder.” 

“Yes. But it was because old Mrs. Ryder did not 
wish me to meet him,” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


315 

“ Would you have any objection to meeting him 
now ? ” 

She shrank back. 

“ Mrs. Ryder would not like ” she began. 

Nanny smiled incredulously, and turned to the door. 

‘ ‘ Mrs. Ryder’s wishes have been respected too 
long,” she said coldly, as she left the room. 

She supposed that she should find Ralph in his study, 
and proposed to bring him face to face with old Mrs. 
Ryder’s companion without delay. But when she 
opened the study door she forgot everything in dismay 
at the spectacle which greeted her eyes. 

Crouching by the fire, like a dog which has been 
forgotten by its master, was Ralph Ryder : not the 
loving, tender husband of an hour ago, but the dull- 
eyed fugitive of the night before. As he looked up 
on her entrance, Nanny searched his countenance in 
vain for one spark of the devotion which had shone 
in his eyes, or even for a sign of the passionate anger 
he had shown towards Valentine. In vain ; his face 
was as blank as a clean slate. With one short, un- 
interested glance at her, he resumed his gazing into 
the fire. 

“ Ralph,” said she timidly. He looked up again. 
“ Dinner is ready. Won’t you come } ” 

He seemed surprised by these words. But he rose, 
and followed her submissively to the door. As she 
opened it, however, his confused mind began to 
work again, and, detaining her by a touch on the 
hand she had laid on the handle he said : 

‘ ‘ I thought I heard Ellen’s voice. Is she here .? ” 

Nanny’s breath came quickly. 

“Yes,” she said, almost in a whisper, “ I will 
take you to her.” 

He followed her in silence until they reached the 
drawing-room, the door of which Nanny threw open. 
He entered with slow and hesitating steps^ and cast a 
half-apprehensive glance around. But it travelled 
over both Meg and old Mrs. Ryder’s “ companion,” 
and rested again on Nanny, 


3 1 6 RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 

“Where is Ellen ? You told me I should see her/* 
said he irritably. 

Had she changed so much that he did not recognise 
her.? Nanny asked herself as, advancing into the 
room, she addressed the shrinking stranger. The 
voice, which he had already recognised, would betray 
her again, Nanny thought. 

“Captain Ryder wishes to speak to you, madam,” 
she said. 

The stranger had drawn down her veil, and was 
sitting with her head turned away, as if anxious to 
escape observation. Thus challenged, however, 
she rose in desperation, pushed up her veil far enough 
to display her features, and said : 

“It is not I to whom Captain Ryder wishes to 
speak. Are you satisfied now .? ” 

Nanny was dumb with astonishment. For Ralph 
heard her words without excitement, and shook his 
head. 

“No,” he said. “ It is Ellen I want to see.” 

And again his eyes roamed searchingly round the 
room. Nanny, pale and trembling, turned to the 
stranger. 

“I beg your pardon,” she said, in a tone of con- 
trite apology. “I — I have been deceived. But — I 
think — I begin — to understand.” 

She could scarcely control her voice. Meg, afraid 
that her sister might faint, came to her side. But 
Nanny showed plenty of self-command. 

“ We are just going in to dinner,” she said to the 
unknown lady. “Will you do us the pleasure of 
dining with us, and excuse this hasty, invitation .? ” 

The lady hesitated for a few moments, and then 
said simply : 

“ If I were not so hungry, I would thank you and 
decline. But Mrs. Ryder has been in such a dis- 
turbed state all day that she has eaten nothing, so I 
have fared very little better. You will excuse my 
leaving you abruptly if she should return and want 
me, will you not .? ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


317 


“Certainly,” said Nanny. 

Courtesy now forced the latter to abstain from 
further questions to her guest, although the words she 
was longing to utter burned in her breast. 

It was a sombre party that sat down to dinner in 
the soft glow of the shaded silver lamps. Even this 
light seemed too bright for the gloomy host, who 
turned down the lamps on each side of him, and sat 
with bent head in his place, eating little, and only 
looking up from time to time to cast a furtive and 
startled glance, not at his companions, but into the 
shadowy corners of the room, where the circle of 
light round the table did not penetrate. None of the 
ladies looked at him. Only the servants in attendance 
cast furtive, frightened looks at him, seeing that some- 
thing was wrong. Nanny and Meg exerted them- 
selves to keep up some sort of conversation, in which, 
however, the stranger joined but little, and Ralph not 
at all. As soon as desert was reached, however, and 
the departure of the servants relaxed a little, the 
general feeling of constraint, the perfunctory talk 
dwindled into silence. But Nanny dreaded to give 
the signal to move. The passion of fear within her 
as to what was to follow had grown to its height dur- 
ing the progress of the meal, for this gloomy, imbecile 
silence on Ralph’s part confirmed every moment more 
strongly the fact that his madness had returned upon 
him. 

But at last, glancing nervously at the other ladies, 
she arose and, as they passed to the door, touched 
Ralph lightly on the shoulder. He started violently, 
drew back his right hand, which had lain on the table, 
and glared up at her with an expression of so much 
fierceness that she was for the moment appalled and 
unable to speak. At last she said : 

“Won’t you come with us into the drawing-room 

She dreaded leaving him alone with the wine, 
which she knew was a danger to him. He paused an 
instant, and then slowly rose without speaking. The 
other ladies had passed out of the room, but Meg, 


3 1 8 RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 

apprehensive on her sister’s account, lingered near the 
door. Nanny signed to her to go, but, as she did so, 
Meg uttered a horror-struck exclamation and stood 
transfixed, with her eyes upon Ralph, who walked 
quickly to the door, 

“I am going to the study,” said he briefly. 

And without waiting for any rejoinder, he passed 
the ladies and left the room. As soon as they heard 
the study-door close, Meg turned to her sister. 

“He has a knife,” she whispered. “ I saw him 
take one from the sideboard as you turned to look at 
me. Nanny, Nanny, this is dreadful ! Let me go 
for Dr. Blundell.” 

Nanny assented by a movement of the head. She, 
too, knew they were in danger — a houseful of women 
shut up with a homicidal maniac. 

“And don’t you go near him while I’m gone. Be 
sure of that,” went on Meg, as she ran for her hat and 
cloak. 

To this injunction Nanny made no answer, for she 
had determined to make one more effort to regain that 
influence over him which she seemed so strangely to 
lose whenever his malady attacked him. As soon, 
therefore, as Meg was out of the house, she, having 
made her apologies to the unknown lady in the draw- 
ing-room, went to the study-door and knocked. 

“Come in,” cried a voice, so unlike Ralph’s when 
in health and happiness that she was startled, and 
almost doubted who was within. 

On opening the door, however, which she did some- 
what timidly, she saw the handsome head of Ralph 
Ryder leaning in his hands, as if the weight of it was 
too heavy for his body to support. He looked up at 
her with a frown, and a glance almost of non-recog- 
nition. 

“ Can’t you leave me alone } ” he said. “ What do 
want } ” 

“Nothing, dear Ralph, but to know whether you 
can lend me a knife — a penknife — anything, to cut 
this piece of string ? ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BREAtT, 


319 

She had conceived this pretext for trying- to get his 
weapon, and had provided herself with a twisted 
piece of string out of one of the drawers in the din- 
ing-room sideboard. He looked at the tangled cord 
in her trembling hands rather suspiciously. 

‘ ‘ What do you want the string for .? ’’ 

“To tie up a parcel. Do, dear, lend me a knife if 
you have one.” 

Reluctantly he , produced from his pocket a small 
table-knife, which Nanny took and thanked him for. 

“ Why! ” she then exclaimed, with as much care- 
lessness as she could assume, “what did you want 
with this.? It is one of the table-knives. I will take 
it back to the dining-room. ” 

He said nothing, but Nanny saw that he glanced 
up at the trophy of yataghans, spears, and other 
weapons over the mantel-piece ; in the centre of these 
were a cavalry-sword and a revolver. She hurried 
away with the knife, and took care to place it, with 
its fellows from the sideboard, in a place where he 
would not be likely to find them. Then she left the 
room, and stood where she could hear any noise in 
the study, waiting for her sister’s return with the 
doctor. 

At last there was a knock at the front door, and 
Nanny flew to open it. The doctor and Meg came 
in together, the former looking very grave, the latter 
much excited. 

“Oh, thank Heaven you are safe, Nanny!” she 
whispered. “ I have told the doctor everything that 
that man Eley said about sending the police, and 
about the knife and everything.” 

“It will be a good thing if the police do come,” 
muttered the doctor. 

“Oh, don’t ! ” cried Nanny. 

“My dear Mrs. Ryder, I beg your pardon. I 
didn’t see how near you were,” cried Dr. Blundell, 
who had addressed his remark to Meg. “Oh, no, 
old Mrs. Ryder will keep that young man’s mouth 
shut, never fear. But we must have another doctor 


RALPH RYDER OF BREHT. 


32G 

here to-morrow to examine Captain Ryder and to 
certify to his lunacy, and then get an order from a 
magistrate to put him into safe-keeping. You can 
see for yourself that, at present, the poor fellow is a 
danger to himself and to all around him.’' 

They were all three close together, in a corner of 
the hall, talking in whispers. A wild, demoniacal 
laugh suddenly sent a shiver through them all. Look- 
ing in the direction whence the sound came, they saw 
•Ralph Ryder, with his body bent forward in a half- 
crouching, listening attitude, nodding his head, and 
carefully hiding under his coat something which he 
held in his right hand. 

“Shut him up, will you?" he said in a quavering 
voice. “ Not again, not again ! " 

He went on muttering to himself in a lower and 
lower voice, and still staring at the group, he at last 
dropped into silence. 

Then Nanny bravely sprang, in a few fleet steps, 
to his side, and spoke in kind and reassuring tones. 

‘ ‘ Who talks of shutting you up ? ’’ she asked lightly. 

‘ ‘ Dr. Blundell has come to see you, because I thought 
you did not seem well. You are not well, now, are 
you ? " 

The unhappy man looked in a helpless, wavering 
manner from her to the doctor, and back again to 
her. 

“I — I don't know. I — I am quite well, I think." 
But as the doctor took one step towards him, he sud- 
denly drew himself erect, and again assumed a men- 
acing expression. “ I am not going to be examined 
by anyone," he said, fiercely. “Whether I am mad 
or sane is my business, and I'll put a bullet into 
any man who tries to make it his. Now, go back, 
you " 

Nanny interrupted him, clinging to his arm, as he 
advanced towards the doctor. 

“But wait, wait Ralph. You know I have hurt 
my ankle, and Dr. Blundell is going to look at it 
before he goes. You don’t mind that, do you ? " 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


321 

“Not if he keeps out of my way,” said Ralph, 
sullenly. 

Dr. Blundell saw that it was useless for him to ap- 
proach the maniac in his present mood, and he went 
with Nanny into the morning-room, while Ralph 
retreated to the study, and Meg remained by the 
front door. 

“I have sent,” said the doctor in a low voice, as 
soon as the door was shut, ‘ ‘ for young Bambridge 
to come round here. We may very likely have more 
to do with your unhappy husband to-night than one 
man can manage. And this young fellow is trust- 
worthy, besides which he knows something about 
the affair already. I have set your sister to watch 
for him, and to let him in quietly. ” 

Even as they spoke, the door of the room was 
opened quietly by Meg, who led Charlie Bambridge 
into the room. He had, however, scarcely time to 
shake hands with Nanny before the prowling step of 
the maniac was heard in the hall. Quick as thought, 
Meg sprang up, pushed the doctor behind a large 
settee which stood across one corner of the room, 
and whispered to him to conceal himself there. 

“ If he comes in,” she hissed into his ear in a rapid 
whisper, “he will very likely calm down when he 
thinks you are gone. We will talk to him, and try 
to get him off his guard, so that you and Mr. Bam- 
bridge can secure him.” 

With a piteous white face poor Nanny listened to 
and acquiesced in these arrangements, only begging 
them, m a quavering voice, “not to hurt him.” Then 
Charlie began to talk to Meg in a louder voice, and 
suddenly, after a little rattling at the door-handle, 
the maniac burst in. He’ was evidently by this time 
in a high state of excitement, and his right hand, 
thrust into the breast of his coat, twitched and 
trembled. His face looked haggard and lined, and 
his eyes looked as sunken as those of a very old 
man. 

‘ ‘ Where is the doctor .? ” he asked, shortly. 

21 


322 


HALPII RYDER OF BRENT. 


“Oh, he is gone,” exclaimed Meg at once. “Mr. 
Bambridge was sent here for him. ” 

Ralph Ryder looked vacantly, and without any 
sort of recognition, at the young man. Meg, who 
mistrusted that nervous twitching of his hidden hand, 
made way for him to come to the sofa, by which she 
was sitting. If he would only do this, the doctor 
could seize him from behind, while Charlie was ready 
to secure him in front. He would not, however, fall 
in with their plans, being perhaps not without sus- 
picion : he remained by the half-opened door, and 
presently said, in a very low voice : 

“I want my wife.” 

Nanny sprang up, breaking free from her sister s 
detaining hand. 

“ I am here, Ralph,” she said, as she came close 
to his side. 

‘ ‘ You are not my wife ! ” he said abruptly. ‘ ‘ 1 
want Ellen — Ellen. She has deceived me, ruined 
me ; she would have killed me if she could. And 
she has hidden herself away from me all this time— I 
don’t know how long,” he continued, passing his left 
hand doubtfully over his forehead. Then he stared 
before him savagely. “ But I will have my revenge 
now — that I have waited for — I will have it now ! I 
have heard her voice — she is in this house — 1 will 
find her — I will kill her ! ” 

Only Nanny, standing still close beside him, heard 
these last words ; but his wild eyes told the rest 
what his lips told her. With an abrupt movement, 
he flung her back from him, disclosing, as he did so, 
the butt of the revolver in his breast. 

“Is it loaded.?” cried Meg to Charlie in a low 
voice. 

“Sure to be — he’s a soldier,” was the not very 
comforting reply. 

“ Oh,” moaned the girl, “won't you try ” 

The young fellow silenced her, keeping his eyes 
on the madman, and Waiting for a favourable mo- 
ment to spring upon and attempt to disarm him. 


I^ALPH £VDEJ^ OF BRENT. 


323 

At that moment the noise of wheels and hoofs was 
heard coming rapidly up the drive. Ralph started. 

“The police!” he cried. “The police! Well, 
they must wait till I have done my work. Ellen ! 
Ellen ! ” 

The hoarse whisper in which he uttered this name, 
as he glided out of the room, filled the listeners with 
horror, which was changed to dismay when, looking 
into the hall, they saw that he had already disap- 
peared. 

“The study! He is sure to have gone to the 
study ! ” exclaimed Nanny. 

Charlie drew her back, and proceeded himself to 
enter the dark corridor into which the study opened. 

“Wait — wait till help comes,” cried Meg. “The 
wheels are quite close now. Oh, wait, wait ! ” 

She ran to the front-door to admit the arrivals. 
Whoever they were, they were welcome now. 

But it was too late. Charlie had disappeared into 
the corridor, and in another instant sounds of a scuffle 
were heard, as the madman sprang upon him. 

Up and down the corridor — brushing now against 
one wall, now against the other — they went, strug- 
gling for possession of the revolver. By the light of 
an oil-lamp at the end of the corridor, Nanny saw the 
figures slipping, wrestling, swaying. Then there 
was a report, and the figures were quite still for a 
second. Then one man fell, and the other knelt be- 
side him. 

There was a pause of death-like silence, but for the 
rumbling of the wheels outside getting nearer. Then, 
as the one man continued to kneel beside the other, 
Nanny, halting, tottering, with straining eyes and 
gasping breath, came along the corridor towards 
them. 

The kneeling man was Charlie. The man lying on 
the ground was Ralph Ryder, quite still. 

“He is dead,” said the young fellow, trying to 
keep Nanny away. 

But she was fascinated, drawn forward almost in 


324 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

spite of her will, until, with breath so laboured that 
every gasp seemed to tear her body, and eyes grown 
wide with terror, she was close beside him, pushing 
back the curly gray hair, looking down into the dead 
face close to hers. Then, to the horror of the by- 
standers, she threw up her hands above her head and 
twirled round in a sort of mad dance. 

“ It is not Ralph ,! It is not Ralph ! ” she cried. 

Poor Meg burst into passionate sobs. 

“ My darling, my poor darling Nanny, it has turned 
her brain ! ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


325 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

A SOLEMN silence fell for a few moments upon the 
group gathered round the dead body of Ralph Ryder. 
Nanny, after her first strange outburst of emotion, 
leaned against the wall as if stupefied, gazing vacantly 
at the form on the ground which a minute before had 
been a man. Meg stole to her sisters side. Dr. 
Blundell and Charlie making way for her to pass. 

“Nanny, Nanny,” she whispered, “come away. 
You can do no good here, dear. He is dead ; your 
husband is dead.” 

But Nanny, still staring at the body, shook her 
head. 

“No, no, no,” she whispered in a faint voice — 
“not my husband. He — is — not — my — husband,” 
she repeated emphatically. 

The doctor, who was kneeling by the corpse, trying 
to intercept her view of it, turned to glance anxiously 
into her face. He had the same fear as Meg, that 
the horrors of the past few days had sent the unhappy 
lady out of her mind. But Nanny stepped forward, 
tottered, and, accepting the support which Charlie 
hastened to offer, said in a tremulous voice : 

‘ ‘ Look, doctor, look at his forehead ! Where is 
the scar under the hair.? I tell you, he is not my 
husband — not Captain Ryder. And see, I am in my 
right mind ; I am not wandering, as you think.” 

Charlie Bambridge was on the point of speaking, 
when the front door bell rang loudly. But the 
servant whose business it was to answer it did not 
come, for she and the other maids were herding to- 
gether in the servants’ hall, frightened by such breath 
of the tragedy as had already reached them. Meg 
glanced at the doctor. 


326 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

“I am afraid/’ she whispered, "‘that it is the 
police. ” 

“You must let them in. It can’t be helped,” said 
he. 

So Meg, glancing once more with eyes full of soli- 
citude at her sister, walked reluctantly to the front- 
door, the bell of which had been rung a second time 
before the visitor was admitted. 

As he entered, I\Ieg sprang back with a loud cry. 
But before it had escaped her lips the door was closed. 

“ My wife ! my wife ! Where is she ? ” 

It was the man whose tragic death Meg believed 
herself to have just witnessed who stood, alive and 
well, full of fire and energy, before her. 

' ‘ Captain Ryder ? ” she faltered. ‘ ‘ We — we thought 
— you — were — dead ! We ” 

He hurried past her, hearing his wife’s voice. 
Nanny was struggling to escape from the doctor, 
who, having gathered from some words of Charlie’s 
an inkling of the situation, was trying to detain her, 
fearing the effect upon her of this last, greatest shock 
of all. 

When, however, her husband met her face to face, 
and Dr. Blundell withdrawing his supporting arm, 
anxiously watched her, she made no movement for- 
ward, she uttered no cry. Dazed, helpless, shat- 
tered, she seemed to shrink from her husband as he 
caught her in his arms. 

“Nanny, Nanny, my poor wife ! ” was all he said. 

But she only drew a heavy sigh, in which was no 
relief. She was worn out by the violent emotions 
which she had lately sustained, and her aching heart 
had for the time lost the power of joy. Even at this 
moment of reunion, however, the anxious husband 
was not able to give his whole attention to her. The 
dark heap on the ground behind her arrested his eyes. 
Drawing his wife hastily back with him, he took her 
to the drawing-room, and with a few tender words 
and an embrace, which she was still incapable of 
returning, he left her with Meg, and, taking one of 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


327 

the lamps from a table, rejoined the doctor and Charlie 
by the dead man. 

Kneeling down beside the body, Captain Ryder 
examined the upturned face with ever-increasing 
amazement. 

“ I seem,” he whispered at last, “to see my own 
face. ■ ’ 

But his two companions thought differently. Seen 
thus side by side, the living face and the dead, though 
startlingly alike in features and even in colouring, 
with a resemblance increased by the fact that the 
gray moustache and hair of both grew in exactly the 
same way, had one strong point of difference : the 
face of the living Ralph Ryder was young, while that 
of the dead Ralph Ryder was old. 

“ Who was he .? ” asked the doctor. 

“My father,” answered Captain Ryder in alow 
voice. 

“Your father! I thought he died before you were 
born ! ” 

“So did I — until to-night. Tell me,” went on 
Ralph, after a moment’s pause, hurrying his words 
out in fear lest his emotion should overcome him, 
“ did he shoot himself.?” 

It was Charlie Bambridge who answered. 

“ Yes,” said he. “I tried to get the revolver from 
him, but he shook me off, and, before I could prevent 
it, shot himself in the breast. ” 

For a few moments there was silence again. Then 
Ralph looked up suddenly at Charlie. 

“ Do you remember,” he said, “ on the first night 
of our coming to live here, how you and I were alone 
in the study, and I leaped up suddenly, threw open 
the window, and, jumping out, fell through a grating 
and hurt my head .? ” 

“Oh, yes,” answered the young fellow. 

“ It was my father's face that I saw. I thought it 
was a delusion — that I was haunted by my own face 
— that I was going mad ; and I begged you to keep 
the incident a secret.” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


328 

“So I did,” said Charlie. “But if I had known 
what it was that alarmed you, I could have reassured 
you. For I saw it too.” 

Ralph shuddered. 

“Let us take him,” said he, in a husky voice, 
“into the study. It was his favourite room; he 
always came back to it. My mother told me so. 
Let him lie there now.” 

They carried the body of the dead man into the 
little room, to which, indeed, as his son said, all his 
wanderings had led him back. Captain Ryder went 
to an oak cupboard, out of which he took an old mil- 
itary cloak, folded into many creases. 

“This was his own cloak which I kept as a relic 
of him,” he said. “Let it cover him now.” 

He stood silently by the body when he had gently 
drawn the cloak over it, while the other two men, 
respecting his emotion, dared not even disturb him 
by leaving the room. hX last he moved. 

“Poor father ! ” he murmured, in a broken whisper. 

“ May Heaven forgive her who brought you to this ! ” 

To the two listeners these words sounded more 
like a curse than a prayer, so harsh, so unrelenting 
was his tone. As he left the room, the absorbed look 
on his face gave place to one of deep distress as he 
turned to the doctor. 

“ Do you think my wife will get over the shock of 
this ? ” he asked in a voice tremulous with feeling. 

“ It seems she thought that it was I who had gone 
out of my mind, and that she sheltered my unhappy 
father, believing him to be me ! ” 

“I thought the same. Captain Ryder,” said Dr. 
Blundell in a low voice. “You see, the likeness was ' 
extraordinary, and we did not know of your father’s 
existence.” 

‘ ‘ But you, Charlie, you say you saw him when I 
did ! You did not think it was a delusion .? ” 

“No, Captain Ryder, I guessed it was a relation 
of yours, and that he was mad, and shut up. But I 
thought you knew all about it, and as you bound me 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


329 


to secrecy, I could say nothing to the doctor. But 
until a few minutes ago I did not know that he or 
Mrs. Ryder mistook the madman for you.” 

Captain Ryder stood for a few moments in an 
attitude of deep thought. 

“ You must hear the whole story, both of you,” 
he said ; “ but not to-night. I haven’t got it all 
clearly in my own mind yet. I thank you both most 
heartily for your friendship, your kindness. Good- 
night, good-night ! ” 

For Dr. Blundell and Charlie, hastening to take 
themselves off now they feared that they might be 
in the way, had reached the front door, which the 
former opened. 

“ There’s a cab out here, waiting. Did you know 
that ? ” said he. 

Captain Ryder started. 

“ No,” said he. “ I’d forgotten all about her,” he 
added to himseff. 

He allowed the two gentlemen to get some distance 
down the drive before he opened the cab-door, and 
said coldly : 

“ Will you come in .? ” 

A smothered sob answered him, and old Mrs. 
Ryder, crumpled, downcast, looking as if she had 
shrivelled, under her son’s displeasure, to about 
half her former diminutive size, got out, taking his 
arm even at that moment as a matter of course, with 
the natural instinct of making use of everybody 
within reach which had been born in and would die 
with her. Ralph led her indoors, dismissed the cab, 
and took her straight to the drawing-room, vouch- 
safing no word to her by the way. They found 
Nanny lying back in a low chair, with closed eyes. 
Ralph led his mother, who tried to draw back, straight 
to his wife. 

“Nanny,” he said gently, “you once asked me 
who was Lady Ellen "i And I could not tell you. 
I have only just known. Let me introduce you to 
her. ” 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


330 

But Nanny only glanced at her, shuddered, and 
shut her eyes again. 

“ I know, I know,'' she said bitterly, “ I guessed 
it — this evening. You kept your secret very well, 
Lady Ellen. I congratulate you." 

Captain Ryder’s masculine impetuosity had carried 
him too far. In his anxiety to have at once cleared 
away the mysteries in which his mother’s disingenu- 
ousness had entangled his wife and himself, he had 
treated both Nanny and the scheming old woman 
too roughly. The latter burst into hysterical tears, 
while the young wife rose, tried to walk to the door, 
and fell unconscious into her sister’s arms. 

It was not until some days later, when the inquests 
on the bodies both of Mrs. Durrant and of Captain 
Ryder’s father were over, that Nanny learned the 
whole story of the mystery of Brent Grange. Ralph 
had in the meantime insisted on the fullest confession 
on his mother’s part, not being satisfied until the 
smallest detail was explained. Reluctantly enough, 
and with many sobs and sighs, which had no effect 
upon her son, Lady Ellen Ryder disclosed the arts 
by which, for thirty years, she had concealed her 
mad husband’s existence from the world, and tried to 
obliterate every trace of her own identity with the 
woman whose coldness and frivolity had been the 
cause of his ruin. 

She confessed how, when the news reached her, 
that he had murdered their only child in a fit of 
insanity brought on by her desertion, she had returned 
to The Grange ; how, profiting by the fact that one 
of the servants had been ill of typhoid fever, and that 
the rest of them, with the exception of the butler, had 
left the house in a panic, she gave out that her 
husband and child were ill from the same cause, 
keeping the former, meanwhile, closely confined to 
the house. Then she gave out that they had both 
died ; and with the help of the butler and of Picker- 
ing, she contrived under the pretext of sparing the 
undertaker’s men the risk of infection, to fill the larger 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


331 

coffin with bricks wrapped in old clothes, and to 
have it fastened down without arousing suspicion of 
the fraud. There was some gossip in the neighbour- 
hood about the fact that no doctor had been called 
in ; but this was explained by the well-known cir- 
cumstance that the intemperate habits of the master 
of The Grange had caused him to quarrel with all the 
local medical men. 

Since the fatal outbreak on learning of his wife’s 
desertion, Mr. Ryder had fallen into a state of 
somnolent passivity, which made it easy for her to 
carry out her daring plan of shutting him up in The 
White House, the tenant of which had recently left 
it. In spite of Pickering’s warning, she had persisted 
in this course, the success of which for many years 
justified her boldness. She caused the front part of 
the house, which faced the road, to be shut up, had 
two back-rooms furnished for her husband’s accom- 
modation, and set Pickering guardian over him. 
Then she herself went abroad, dropping for ever her 
title, and with it, she hoped, her identity with the 
wife of whom unkind things were whispered. 

Six months after her husband’s supposed death 
another child was born to her, the son who after- 
wards became Captain Ryder ; and with his birth her 
real punishment began. She was seized with fear 
lest her child should learn her story, and reproach 
her with the guilt of her father’s insanity and crime. 
Conscience began to prick her as it had never done 
before ; and when he, as a child, found in an old 
newspaper an account of a ball, of which Lady 
Ellen Ryder ” had been the belle, she showed an 
emotion which stamped the name for ever in the 
boy’s mind. Another fear which troubled the 
remorseful woman was lest the insanity of the father 
should descend upon the son ; it caused her to in- 
oculate the latter with the same morbid dread. The 
curse of her guilty folly, however, affected him in 
another way. The shock of her husband’s crime, 
and the remorse which it brought to her, destroyed 


RALPH R YDER OF BRENT. 


332 

her youth at one blow. From a beautiful woman, 
with porcelain complexion and yellow-brown hair, 
she shrank speedily into an aged caricature of her 
former self, gray-haired, lined and old : to this fact 
she ascribed the grizzling of her son s hair before he 
was five-and-twenty, and the prematurely old gait 
and manner which had made the likeness between 
his father and himself so striking. 

.As her son grew older. Lady Ellen s self-made 
difficulties increased ; yet still, haunted by the fear of 
the hatred he might feel towards her if she were to 
confess her story, she persisted in keeping up the 
secret of his father’s existence. In the first place, her 
husband had begun to make various attempts at 
escape, which rendered it necessary to provide him 
with more constant guardianship. Having found, 
as she believed, a suitable person for this office in 
Mrs. Durrant, the harassed lady soon found herself 
burdened with expenses which were a heavy charge 
upon the estate. Thanks to the dutiful submission 
to her which her son had always shown, the manage- 
ment of her husband’s property was entirely in her 
hands. But the demands of Mrs. Durrant, of the 
butler who had connived at the mock-burial, and, 
finally, of Mrs. Durrant’s brother, became so excessive 
as to make her task to satisfy them a hard one. 

And then came the trouble of Dan’s marriage. 
Marriage would mean settling down at Brent or at 
Bicton, and a constant fear of discovery. The money 
difficulty, too, would be greater when there was an 
establishment to be kept up. The old gardener fore- 
saw this, and entreated Lady Ellen to tell her son the 
whole story. But her natural secretiveness had in- 
creased with years, and she argued with herself that, 
as she had succeeded in avoiding confession all these 
years, she would find means of avoiding it to the end. 
So she set about watching Nanny to find out what 
sort of woman she had to deal with, and, failing to 
persuade the young wife to give up the idea of settling 
at the Grange, she conceived a violent aversion for 


RALPH KYDER OF BRENT. 


333 

her, which made the thought of an avowal of her own 
duplicity more unpalatable than ever. 

This was the state of her mind when her son’s ac- 
cident brought her to The Grange. On her entrance 
into the sick-room, she had been startled to find 
Nanny reading the very letter in which, thirty years 
before, she had announced to her weak but adoring 
husband that she had left him for ever. It was the 
letter which had dealt the final blow in the destruc- 
tion of his reason. Left by him between the pages 
of a book which he had given her, it had been found 
thirty years after, by their son, who was in the act 
of reading it when his father s face at the window 
caused him to believe himself the subject of a delu- 
sion. 

It was from this point that Lady Ellen’s selfishness 
allowed her to play havoc with her daughter-in-law’s 
happiness rather than put herself to shame ,by a tardy 
confession. Finding that Nanny believed the writer 
of the letter to be a former wife of Dan’s, she would 
not wholly undeceive her ; and, in order to obtain 
possession of the incriminating letter, she secreted 
herself under the bed in Nanny’s room that night, fail- 
ing, however, in her endeavour. The last steps in the 
deception were her attempt to pass off her most inno- 
cent companion as the guilty Lady Ellen, and her 
flight from the house after Valentine, to make a final 
attempt to cajole him into silence. 

Two or three minor points of the mystery were also 
cleared up. Although Lady Ellen’s husband had never 
risen above the rank of lieutenant, it had been Picker- 
ing’s custom to speak of him as “the Captain,” and this 
habit had spread to Mrs. Durrant, thus increasing the 
confusion of father with son. Again, from motives of 
economy, Lady Ellen had caused her husband to be 
dressed in such clothes as could from time to time be 
spared from her son’s wardrobe ; thus Nanny had 
really recognised her husband’s coats on the man she 
mistook for him. Finally, Nanny learned that a cer- 
tain breast-pin, which was one of the means by which 
the girl at the hotel professed to identify Captain Ryder 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


534 

with the lunatic, had belonged to the latter, but ha 
been sent to his wife by Mrs. Durrant in consequence 
of his having attempted to sell it. This pin Lady 
Ellen had then given to her son. 

There then remained to explain the visit paid by 
Captain Ryder to Brent on the day when he went to 
Aldershot. A little cross-questioning on Nanny’s part 
proved that it was The Grange, and not The White 
House, at which he called, and that the woman he 
saw and took for the caretaker was not Mrs. Durrant, 
but her servant, between whom and Ralph Nanny 
observed a look of recognition to pass on the occa- 
sion of the visit to Teddington. 

The journey to Durham, and the short cruise which 
he had then made with a friend, had been undertaken 
with a view to clearing his mind of the morbid 
thoughts induced by his supposed “delusions,” the 
horror of which had increased when, on his return 
home, he had seen again, as he supposed, his own 
image in the hall below, this supposed “delusion” 
being again caused by the actual presence of his un- 
happy father prowling about the house on his way to 
the study, where Nanny had shortly afterwards found 
him. Captain Ryder had then left the house in pur- 
suit of his mother, who was, he felt sure, in posses- 
sion of a clue to Nanny’s strange welcome, if not the 
cause of it. He had overtaken her at the station, 
where he found her with Valentine. In the deserted 
waiting-room he had forced from her and her compan- 
ion enough of the truth to send him back to The 
Grange in a mad passion of yearning love for his wife, 
and fierce indignation against his mother, whom he 
insisted on bringing home with him to repeat her 
avowal to Nanny. 

As for Valentine, he tossed him a ten-pound note, 
and warned him that it was given for his necessities 
and not for his merits, told him to go to the police- 
station or any place in the world he pleased, pro- 
vided he kept away from The Grange and its occu- 
pants for the future. 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT, 


335 

Nanny, who was staying in the house of Mrs. 
Bambridge, where she had been ever since the death 
of the unhappy Mr. Ryder, listened to the long story 
from her husband’s lips almost in silence. She was 
lying on a sofa near the drawing-room window, 
having, indeed, been completely prostrated by the 
succession of shocks she had sustained since her first 
arrival in Brent. Dan, watching her white face in- 
tently, at last burst out in an angry undertone : 

“I will never forgive my mother for inflicting all 
this upon you 1 ” 

“ Yes, you will, Dan ; yes, you will ! ’’said Nanny, 
turning her blue eyes to him. “It is worthwhile 
— almost worth while — to have gone through it all, 
to know that it is over. And when you take me 
away, as you have promised to do, I shall be quite 
well again directly ; and — and very soon able even 
to come back and live in this place.” 

“Do you mean that.? I could not. As a matter 
of fact, I have already had the two places advertised 
as to let in building lots.” 

Nanny jumped up with a flush of delight in her 
face. 

“Now,” she said, “I feel quite well already. I 
did dread the thought of going back,” and she shud- 
dered. “I could never again have gone into that 
study without feeling that it was haunted — as it used 
to be. Dan,” she began afresh, in a whisper, “you 
know that night when you had your accident .? ” 

“Yes, dearest.” 

“I found someone in the study, who closed the 
door upon me, and then escaped. Of course it was 
your poor father ; but how was it I found on the 
bushes outside the window a piece of a woman’s 
veil .? ” 

‘ ‘ It was a scrap of a veil my mother had worn, I 
expect,” said Dan. “I found it in the same book 
with the letter — the book which my father found on 
the table. It must have blown out as he got out of 


336 RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 

the window. You remember that the book was found 
dropped in the area below.'’ 

“ One more thing I have to tell you, Dan : Mrs. 
Calverley called this afternoon when you were out.” 

“That spying old busybody ! I hope you didn’t 
see her. ” 

“ Yes, I did, Dan, and I am very glad. She came 
to apologize, and to tell me that, having known your 
father very well, she had some suspicions as to 
whether you were really he ; and the event, she hopes, 
will excuse her curiosity. You see she had never 
heard that Lady Ellen had a son born after she went 
away. ” 

“I don’t think she was justified at all in first in- 
sulting you and then spying upon us. ” 

“Neither do I. But she wanted me to tell you 
this, and I promised. I wanted to get the very last 
of this dreadful business over. ” 

“And now give me your word of honour that you 
will try to put it right out of your mind and never 
allude to it again.” 

“ I do — oh, I do ! On my word of honour ! ” cried 
Nanny energetically. 

She had risen from the sofa, and was on her knees 
beside him, supported by his arms. 

“Oh, Dan, Dan, you can’t guess how I feel, now 
I know that you are really my own, my very own, 
again ! ” she whispered. 

They were silent for some time, absorbed in their 
recovered happiness. Then Nanny spoke once 
more. 

‘ ‘ I want, as soon as our year abroad is over, to 
give a grand ball, Dan.” 

“A ball ! ” echoed Captain Ryder in astonish- 
ment. 

“ Yes, to blow away the remembrance of all these 
horrors, and to make Laura and Jessica and Adela 
happy.” 

“And Meg ! Have you forgotten Meg.? ” 

“ Oh, Dan, you needn’t trouble about her, dear. It 


RALPH RYDER OF BRENT. 


337 


is already a question between her and Charlie 
whether it is to be a flat in town or a little house in 
the suburbs ! ” 

“And you and I, Nanny? Where shall we live, 
my darling ? ” 

‘ ‘ Near the sea — near the sea. Then I can look out 
and see more of the sky when — when the greatest 
happiness of all comes. And — it is coming, Dan,” 
whispered Nanny, as she buried her face in her hus- 
band’s breast. 



ALPH RYDER OF BRENT 


A NOVEL 


BY 

FLORENCE WARDEN 

AUTHOR OF 

“A WITCH OF THE HILLS,” “ THE HOUSE ON THE MARSH,” ETC» 


NEW YORK 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 

150 WORTH ST., COR MISSION PLACE 




\ 






t 



\ 





* 4 



» 





\ 





4 

ft 


v 

» 


S 


V * 


i 


? v3 ar».Vv 






f 7 

»**rj 


til 




f 


H' ./ 







/ ‘ > 

WA'----i-«, 


u • 










T) 

-to v/ '^> .j K/ ^v ,>*• » 

> a' • * ^ ^ ^ ✓ 

r. s" ^ n ^ c^ 0 

>‘ r ^ 


■^oo'^ 





'. "'oo'' 

-T ^ 

_ ^ '’^2^/y/i^^ V, V^ --<- ✓' '^'WO'^ix^ y-v 

^ * » ,%' * " ' ' ’'v''’^ ' • ‘ ^-vV* “ -* " ’.V' .. V . » --^-- 

>• .«>. V -P^ ,^, »' ■*>«^ ■* 







^ * .\^ ^ '>1 ^ *^w/!5fw ^ • 


a' ^ o ~ c , -*- 

4 




'A V 


0 o 



' ^- 1 % ->• * 

JV ' “ ' 'cP^I' ’I'J^ ' “ ' ‘ 


oo^ 


A "7^- 



: ^0 o. 




^ aV. ^ \ ^ < 

W^ )\ ^ !)• '^ ^ *^ ry <4^ ^illy^ 'S ^ 



' ^ cD o ^ ^ , 

y ‘ ' • » ' y * " ' ' * N>\ ' i:i:-v ~ 

c, ;>. ^ 

«K . ‘- O 

'^-> ^ .iV 

' - s ^\- 

'* \0 




^ 8 1 A y 
0 f C' V . 

^ /, *r. ' 1 ?- • V, ^ 


^ -*. »v M ^ V * n ^ 

^ j{\ iS$5 /h, . 


^ 4> j. 


I ^ V - 

^ .\» -s 


Cv> O 

^ n I A O ''/ 

.f O ^ ^ 

. .V 4 . -sr^' , \\^ •>* 


o < 

' ^ oV ^ 

'Vk;/:^/y . . 

-< ^ V 

<i 




, , y 'Ty /\ , . „ > ' . . ' 

5 ^ o 



'‘r •'>. ^ 

2 ^ 



y#§^r 

' » . X ■* . A „ 

^ A V c- ** 

^ J'fr </ 

^ ^ c 





LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


